The Tale of the Green Sword

This legend is recorded in the annals of Candlekeep, in a ancient book of collected Elven Fables.

The Tale of the Green Sword
A dark gloom came over the small town of Eldania. The evil knight Laoch had taken control of the town, and the townspeople suffered greatly under his tyrannical rule. Laoch was evil to the core, and took all the freedoms away from his people, building a great stone wall around the town, and taking away the magic within its walls. With no way to escape, the people of Eldania were tormented by Laoch day and night, and were eventually forced to build a large tower in the middle of the town. The tower reached to the heavens themselves, and Laoch ruled from the top.

Years passed, and the once prosperous and happy town had turned into a dreary prison. All the plant life in Eldania died, and the river that ran through it was now polluted, dark, and dead. It was not long, however, before hope arrived. An elven hero, by the name of Navain Thornwood, came upon the city out of a nearby forest, and witnessed the tyranny of Laoch. He saw how the people suffered, and how Laoch sat in his tower all day, while his wrath fell on the people who he treated like slaves.

Laoch saw Navain, but he laughed at the elf. When his guards asked if they should fire on the hero, Laoch scoffed at the notion. “He is but one elf,” he proclaimed from the top of his tower. “He cannot scale my wall. He cannot cross the great river. He cannot climb my tower. He doesn’t even have a sword! Elves depend on magic, and that will not work here. Do not waste an arrow on this fool.”

Laoch gave another laugh and went back into his tower. Navain, however, did not leave. He saw the dead river flowing from under the walls and the decaying landscape around the city, and he heard the suffering of the people in the town, like a horrible chorus floating in the dank air. He sat in a nearby grove, one that was barely holding on to life, and he shed tears in grief for the city and its people.

The next morning, midsummer, Navain awoke to an amazing site – the grove he slept in was in full bloom. Everywhere around grew blades of tall grass, and each blade was the shape of a sword. In the center, mere steps from where Navain slept, was a sword, as green as the leaves it sprouted next to, planted in the ground. Despite its blade being nearly half buried, Navain grabbed the hilt, and drew it from the ground. The green leaves melted away, and a vibrant green blade and brown hilt were left in the hero’s hand. The sword was lighter than a feather, and the blade shone like the sun off the dew in the grove. The sword seemed to sing as the elf moved it through the air.

The sword and Navain were then as one, and the elf walked toward the castle gate. Arrows started to fly toward the hero, but they were turned away by the sword. Laoch’s guards attacked the elf, but the sword danced like nothing they had ever seen before, and they fell, one by one, at Navain’s feet.

“He will be nothing in the city,” it was shouted. The frightened guards gave him ground, and Navain and the sword entered the town. The sword glowed with rage at Laoch’s crimes against nature and magic, and suddenly a great crash echoed throughout the city, as if a thousand windows were breaking at the same time. The magic field was destroyed, and the guards began to retreat to the tower. Soon, Navain took the sword to the dead river, and touched the dark surface. The citizens, now realizing that someone had come to free them, marveled as the river returned to its blue hue, and plants started to grow on its bank.

Navain strode confidently toward the tower, as the townspeople started to destroy the wall that had held them prisoner for so long. Guard after guard fell as Navain ascended the tower. Still, Laoch hid at the top. Eventually, the Elven hero arrived at a large door, encompassed in evil magic. The sword guided Navain’s hands, and it cut a hole straight through the door. On the other side, pale faced and deathly afraid was the cowardly Laoch.

The two fought on the top of tower, trading blow after blow as the sun rose and fell seven times. Each day, the tower crumbled, until at dusk on the seventh day the two were locked in battle on the ground, the rubble of the tower around them. As the sun set, Navain’s sword dealt the final blow, and Laoch wilted, the wind blowing away anything that was left of the tyrant.

The people of Eldania cheered, proclaiming Navain their hero, and asking him to be their new leader, to help rebuild their town. Navain declined, however. Leadership, he said, did not suit him. Instead, he helped the town fix what was broken, and find what it had lost. He aided the town in setting up a ruling council, and witnessed the town prospering once again.

Eventually, Navain grew very old. The original humans he had freed were long gone, but their descendents still honored the elf, and the town was larger than it had ever been. All during this time, Navain’s Green Sword helped him protect the freedom of Eldania and the surrounding land. Soon, the sword told Navain it was time to go. Bidding the town a farewell, he traveled north along the river to a large and foreboding forest. There, Navain settled deep in the woods – the good and the evil of the forest stood as no challenge to him. Not needing his sword anymore, he returned it to which it came – the earth. He found a grove much like that outside Eldania, and pushed it halfway into the ground. The leaves wrapped themselves around it, and the sword was soon lost among the camouflage of the other plants in the grove. Navain remained to guard the sword’s resting place – where he made sure it bloomed one day for every day he battled Laoch, and to make sure those who sought the sword were good and true, and that they were those who valued free will above all.

The End.