The PortalDreamer Chronicles: Kirthanin

World: Kirthanin
Chronicled by: L.B. Graham
Written in: Beyond the Summerland, Bringer of Storms, Shadow in the Deep, Father of Dragons and one more to come
Religion/Early history:
The world was created by Allfather, who made the three races of man, Great Bear, and the dragons. The city of Avalione on Agia Muldonai [the Holy Mountain] is the home of the Titans, also known as the Council of Twelve, who rule Kirthanin in Allfather’s name. Malek, master of the forge, rebelled against Allfather, breaking the prohibition on shedding blood by forging the first weapons and killing the other Titians. Although trapped in the body of a crippled man, Malek has gathered the Vulsultrym [giants] and the men of Nolthanin to his side, as well as creating the Black Wolves, Grendolai, and Malekim, also known as the Silent Ones or the Voiceless. Malek’s sin resulted in the closing of the Holy Mountain to all, for Malek lurks there waiting for his third attempt.
The dragons and Great Bear are estranged from men, and now, in the Third Age, Allfather speaks through his prophets, namely Valzaan.
Magic: Prophets can see through the eyes of windhovers, step outside of time into torrim redara, as well as glimpse the future through Allfather’s revelations.
Risk of Death: High
~PortalDreamer’s Encyclopedia, fifth edition

Strangers
Oak leaves fluttered in the faint afternoon breeze. “Let’s take a break,” one woman called. “I’m burning up.”
Roughly a dozen people on horseback pulled up under the cluster of trees. Two broadly built men dismounted from their horses and began a wrestling match. “You’ll pay for that, brother!” one said, but the teasing tone made it obvious the enjoyment was mutual.
A sleek tiger brushed against the legs of a tall man with scars running down his face. “Thirsty, Khosti?” the man asked, pulling a small pan from his horse’s saddlebags. “There you go.”
But Khosti continued to pace back and forth. He cocked his head and let his tongue loll out. Then the beast whirled away in a flurry of orange and black.
“Khosti?” The man followed, gripping his sword tightly.

“Nice kitty, kitty. Nice kitty, kitty…”
The tiger stared up into the tree, where a young teenage girl in jeans and a blouse clung to a branch. “Nice kitty,” she repeated.
The man emerged from between the trees. His keen eyes took in the entire situation. A quick whistle brought the rest of the group. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
“I’m Trav.” The girl gave a nervous smile. “Would you mind helping me out of here before I answer that? This tree seems to have decided that I was for supper."
The first swordsman glanced at a figure whose white robe matched his unseeing eyes. “What do you think, Valzaan?”
“She doesn’t sound dangerous. Call Khosti off, Aljeron.”
Aljeron whistled to Khosti, who came reluctantly, keeping an eye on the treed figure.
One of the wrestlers extended a meaty hand. Trav took it and swung herself down. “Thanks.”
A giggle burst out from a nearby cluster of trees. “Sounds like Lord of the Rings.” Another girl, clad in loose capri pants and a pale blue blouse, stepped into the clearing. “I mean, man-eating trees? Old Man Willow…” her voice trailed off as she noticed the number of weapons pointed in her direct. “Um, hi, my name is Frodo.”
“I wasn’t thinking of the Old Forest. Not at all. Like you’re one to talk.” Trav retorted playfully. “You stole your name from Tolkien.
Aljeron nodded to the dark, brooding man who held Trav’s arm. “They don’t look dangerous. Let her go, Rulalin.”
Trav shook herself loose. “Rulalin, huh?” Traitor.
As swords were sheathed, Frodo stepped closer. “You guys on the way to Sulaire?” She turned to Trav. "I didn't steal anything from Tolkien. I'm just...borrowing the name for a while."
“Hi!”
"YAHHH!!!" Frodo jumped ten feet in the air. "Woa.... who are you?"
"I am Ciao-- C-I-A-O-- I'm here because... because... uhhh... I’m not really sure. Where is here anyway?"
”Kirthanin.” Trav replied. “And these are the Novaana. Some of them, anyway.”
"What is going on here?" One woman demanded. "Where are all these beggars coming from?"
"Uh…” Trav put in "I'm no beggar, and I think that I know these guys. Sorta." She glanced pleadingly at Frodo and Ciao. "Right?"
"Of course I know them," Frodo said brightly. "That's Rulalin," she said, pointing, "and umm..." she trailed off. "Well, descriptions are totally different from real life," she mumbled defensively.
Trav shook her head. "Okay, the one with the tiger is Aljeron, and the blind man is Valzaan. The one who just called me "beggar" has to be Mindarin, and Joraiem has the bow. The identical giants over there are Pedraal and Pedraan - don't ask me which is which - and the lovely lass with black hair is Wylla. Bryar, Kelvin, and Elyas are here too. But I was actually asking if I know you two," she pointed at Frodo and Ciao.
Frodo blushed bright purple and muttered something into her sleeve. "Well," she began slowly, "Although I can't say I know you, we're certainly closer in age and cultural background than everyone else here, so I guess we "know" each other."
Trav smiled "True. Valzaan, are you headed to Sulaire? We’d love to come along."
"Count me in! There’s no way I'm passing up an opportunity to travel with my favorite band of heroes." Frodo grinned at the staring Novaana. "Uhh, never mind."
Aljeron patted Koshti's head and sighed. "Well, I suppose we can't just leave you out here alone. You can ride double with us."

After severally minutes of discussion, Aljeron turned to the girls. “Trav, you’re riding with Mindarin. Ciao can double up with Bryar, and Frodo can go with Wylla.”
Frodo grinned. “Have a nice time, Trav.”
Trav gritted her teeth. “Thanks so much.”
Ciao boosted herself onto Bryar’s horse. “Let’s go.”

Smoke from the dying campfire veiled the distant stars. The three girls sat together on one side of the fire. “Man, I’m so sore,” Frodo moaned. “Riding is not my thing.”
“What are you griping about?” Trav snapped. “I’m surprised Mindarin didn’t just shove me off her horse, the way she was complaining.”
Ciao rolled her eyes. “Come on, Trav, isn’t it exciting being here?”
Trav sighed. “It’d be more exciting if I didn’t have to ride with Mindarin. How’d you guys end up here?”
“Um…I’m not sure. How about you?" asked Frodo
"Well, I have a stone that Elrond gave me for traveling into other worlds. Some people have Dorwaes, like Lucy's wardrobe." She lowered her voice to a reverent tone. "Hey, are either of you are Naturals?"
"Are we what?" Ciao repeated.
"You know, Naturals. There are a few people out there - "Wanderer's Magazine" said about one every five generations - who don't need Dorwaes or stones or anything. They just – SNAP!-- enter another world. I'd love to meet one." She sighed. "Heck, I'd love to BE one!"
Ciao shrugged and wrote her name on a stone with the end of a charred stick. "I was just reading a book when POOF!--I ended up here. I thought I was having a really vivid daydream...."
Frodo gave Trav a weird look. "I have no idea what you’re talking about... I wasn't even reading the book. Maybe it was that broccoli soup I had this morning..."
Trav nodded at Frodo. "It was like that when I fell into Middle Earth - you know, POOF and….hold on. Did you just say you had broccoli soup for breakfast?"
Ciao nodded.
"I've never heard of that before. I had a friend who would be hyper all day after eating a cheese sandwich for breakfast...but..."
Frodo grinned. "Trust me, it's good. Except it can have weird side effects...But so do chocolate-coated brussel sprouts..."
Ciao laughed. "I eat cheese sandwiches for breakfast all the time. I also know someone who made bacon for breakfast and then cooked up some hot dogs with the leftover fat.”
Trav shook her head in mock despair. "What IS the world coming to?" she laughed.

Aljeron suddenly stood up. "I believe you three owe us an explanation."
"What do you mean?" Frodo smiled disarmingly. But her braces didn’t exactly help matters.
Aljeron's eyes widened. "What are those....those things on your teeth?"
Frodo clamped her mouth shut. "Nufink."
Trav smiled. "Don't be embarrassed. I'm sure there are some peeps around here who could use braces." She faced Aljeron and the other Novaana. "Sure, we'll explain things. In our world, you people are imaginary, and we wanted to meet you. Oh, and we know what happens to you in the future."
Valzaan peered at her with his milky eyes. "You are prophets?"
Ciao turned toward Valzaan. "Well, no, at least I'm not, we've just read stories of you guys, so we know what's going to happen." She resisted giving Joraiem a sympathetic look.
"Hey, Joraiem, Rulalin’s going to kill you." A voice spoke up from the far side of the fire. Heads swerved toward a teenage guy in jeans and a t-shirt. “Hi, I’m Ezra.” Rulalin glared at Ezra, who quickly added, "I'm not a prophet either."
A gasp came from a nearby cluster of trees. “Wow!” A gangly girl in a coffee-hued skirt and tan shirt ran up to the fire. Her eyes darted around the circle, focusing on Khosti and Valzaan. “Valzaan!” she gasped.
“Since you know who I am, who are you?” Valzaan asked calmly.
“Um, well…call me Galadriel. Listen, the guy’s right. Watch out for Rulalin. Terrible things will happen if he isn’t stopped. It’ll affect the course of history!"
Trav sprang to her feet, gesturing wildly. "Shut up! You're the ones who are going to change history! I like Jorry and all, but we can't change the story!"
"You're right, we can't!” Galadriel retorted. “But we can still have fun trying. Leave if you want!"
Ciao's gaze darted from one person to the next. “Um, maybe we could calm down…” she suggested, but no one heard her.
"What are you saying?" Aljeron raised a questioning brow. "You are bringing accusations against an innocent man."
"He's a lout, so it's all cool." Ezra chimed in.
Frodo nodded. "Yeah, what Ezra said. He...." her voice trailed off as Rulalin strode up, hand gripping his sheathed sword.
"I suggest you hold your tongue, girl."
Frodo stepped backwards. "Hey, I was just joking, Ru. After all, it's not all your fault."
"What's not his fault?" Ezra stuck his tongue out at Rulalin.
Frodo glared at Ezra. "I don't mean it wasn't his fault, it just wasn't all his fault. After all, Synoki convinced him to do it. Remember that chapter in the second book?"
”What books?” Joraiem asked. “Books of prophecy?"
Ezra returned Frodo's glare. "’’The devil made me do it is a cop out and a lie.’ To quote Sara Groves."
"Who's Sara?" Mindarin rubbed her forehead.
"Um, she's... Sara... Groves...?" Ciao offered. The rage bantering back and forth seemed to squash all the oxygen from the air.
Frodo groaned. "Look, I didn't say it wasn't his fault; they're not books of prophecy; and I don't KNOW WHO SARA GROVES IS!" The last part came out as a shout. "Look," she muttered to Ezra, "I hate Rulalin and what he did, but I was just trying to placate him. He'll kill us if we're not careful!"
Valzaan stood up, leaning on his staff. "I think I should have a talk with these strangers," he said calmly. "Would you follow me?"
Galadriel stepped closer to Ciao and Trav as they followed the prophet into the forest. Ezra stuck out his tongue at Rulalin and muttered something under his breath before Frodo nerviously dragged him away.
Valzaan strode confidently through the wood until the firelight was only a dim glow. “I believe you have something to tell me,” he spoke calmly. “Are you sane?”
Galadriel was the first to speak. "Much as it may appear otherwise, we are not crazy. We just have...issues. Including an aversion to murder! And Frodo, just because Synoki tempted him doesn't excuse him. Rulalin admits that in the third book."
Valzaan shook his head. "Do you realize that what you just said underscores your sanity?"
Galadriel pursed her lips. "Sanity is in the eye of the beholder."
"Yeah like I'm sane and you’re nuts." Ezra shot back.
Frodo rolled her eyes. "I told you, I was just trying to placate Rulalin. Did you see the look in his eye? And isn't it beauty that is in the eye of the beholder?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Why do you keep saying these things about Rulalin?" Valzaan’s milky eyes turned toward Galadriel. “And who is Synoki?”
"Dude, you're not much of a prophet." Ezra looked around at the dumbstruck faces of his friends."Sorry."
Galadriel shook her head. "Like we'd be any better in our own world? We know this stuff ‘cause this isn't our world. "
"What?" Valzaan wrinkled his brow. "Where are you from--the stars?"
"No. But the advantages of this world are many. There's no insane aslums, padded cells, or pyscoanalysts here. If they think you're mad, they don't really do anything about it--lucky for us."
Valzaan swept his sightless gaze over the group of travelers. "I know not why Allfather has brought you to us, but I sense that he has done so. So, I will invite you to travel with us, but I ask that you not stir up any more trouble with your... prophicies...."
Galadriel took a deep breath. "Valzaan, I can only speak for myself. I am truly sorry for any disruption I and my fellow travelers have caused. I will do my best to keep silent, but I will not promise anything, for I doubt I could keep one."
"Be careful, he might Mindarin you." Ezra cautioned.
"Not that that wouldn't be a bad thing...." Frodo muttered, still a little sore over the whole Rulalin episode.
"What, me? You've been the loud one," Galadriel glared at Ezra.
Ha," EB laughed " Valzaan, they’re fighting again"
Trav spoke up "Ok, guys, cool it. Mr. Valzaan sir, where exactly are we?"
"About two days from Sulare, south-east of Elnin Wood. Why?"
"Do we still have a fair way to go? If so, I, for one, would like to go to bed."
Aljeron stepped into the small group. "If you’re finished, Valzaan, I think that’s a good idea. For eveyone." He glanced back towards the campfire. "I'll take first watch." Valzaan nodded. "Thank you, Aljeron."