top of page
  • Writer's pictureCal W

The Fall of the Æfintýr

Updated: Aug 19, 2021

Fifth day before Ides of July (July 11th) 1019AD - The final account of “The Fall of the Æfintýr”, as told by Testa Callis, Zealous devotee of The Warlock - discovered in the hidden vaults of Chester Cathedral 1917AD


i) On the morning of 8th day before Kalends of July 1019ad, at the fields to the west of Sherwood, Whiteacre The Mighty Warlock gathered what little remained of the Æfintýr rebellion, a number of races and creatures that had existed since the earliest days of recorded time, to stage a final coup against the Mercian forces of Leofwine, the Earldorman. For a shining day of glory, magically inclined men, elves, dwarves, trolls, and all manner of other magical beings came together to prevent their collective annihilation at the hands of the Catholic Church. With their ways being contradictory to the teachings of the rapidly expanding Christian faith, they were collectively labeled “Slaves of the Devil”.


ii) The Warlock’s lieutenants joined him at the rally; Quinn Eilianther the Elven Bard, Dread pirate ‘Arry the Red and Horace the Alchemist. As rain began to fall over the battlefield, Leofwine’s forces emerged over the horizon - easily 9,000 men strong; far more than the measly 2,042 gathered at Warlock’s Rock. From the mountains beyond the Scottish borders, Dwarves had travelled south for the first time in centuries to join in the battle against Mercia. From the golden kingdom beneath Lochnagar came King Thorumm Mackintosh with a company of 500 good men thirsty for battle. From the elven wood of Sherwood Forest, Eilianther had roused the attention of a thousand elves none less than 400 years old, their once greater numbers having been cut down by the marauding Danes and Saxons during campaigns of conquest. Never far from The Warlock’s side, Horace the Alchemist, master of potions and scientific advancement had developed engines of war that could hurl incendiary projectiles for miles around. Far from their homes on the high seas, Dread Pirate ‘Arry the Red had gathered a council of his fellow corsairs from each of the seven seas to join in the excursion, having formed a strong bond with The Warlock during an incident on the southernmost coast of England. Finally, The Warlock had called upon those he had helped in his travels - entire communities of peasants and mercenaries who would lose loved were the forces of Mercia were to prevail. Unfortunately, all but the deepest sleeping of dragons had been eliminated throughout the years by would be heroes and seekers of glory; those that remained troubled themselves not with the machinations of man and beast - electing instead to wait for the fabled day on which all other life would be wiped out leaving the way open for all dragon kin to take their rightful place as the rulers of the world. Even the trolls of the western hills of Waelas had joined The Warlock, though they were few in number, to preserve their own simple way of life.


iii) There were no words exchanged - as the forces of Mercia charged so too did the company of dwarves from the Golden Kingdom. Cavalry could not reach low enough to behead a single dwarf as their mounts were swiftly cut down with ferocity - The Elves of Sherwood let loose their glistening arrows which glimmered through the sky before finding their marks. Saxon blades clashed against those of ‘Arry’s marauders, whose hearts were ablaze with glorious bloodlust. Atop his high perch on Warlock’s Rock, Whiteacre commanded Horace to rain hellfire upon the vast Mercian numbers. Great balls of flame were far flung from The alchemist’s canons, bursting with destructive fire as they fell upon the enemy. Though his numbers were dwindling far slower than those of Leofwine, The Warlock could sense a great darkness on the wind - His fear come to life as from the north and south came two large warbands of Danes, well paid by the crown to aid in this terrible battle. Before long, The Mighty Warlock too was on the battlefield, hurling bolts of lightning, his sword ablaze with mystical fire; cutting down Saxon and Dane alike. The first of the Æfintýr lieutenants to fall, was Horace; as his machines brought flaming death down upon the enemy, a single Saxon arrow passed clean through his throat, taking his life slowly and painfully. The turn of the battle came swiftly after this - dead by a danish war axe to the crotch was ‘Arry, as the rest of his crew, and the crews of his fellow captains, were overrun by the Norsemen of Northumbria. As The Warlock scanned the battlefield, he saw his dear friend Eilianther dead, a Mercian pike plunged through his elven heart. Further across the battlefield, King Mackintosh and three other dwarves, bloodied and beaten, were locked in battle; surrounded by Saxons. Two dwarves fell, and at that very moment, the third turned on his king. This was King Mackintosh’s treacherous cousin, Micklesoft Vindows the Bold, who saw the opportunity to end the life of his cousin and usurp the throne of the Golden Kingdom from beneath him. Taken by surprise, Thorumm fell to the axe of Vindows who, in turn, was struck down mid celebration by a Norse berserker. There were cheers across the battlefield as the forces of the Æfintýr fell, their blood staining the grasslands. Save for a few others, the last standing was The Warlock - who was now sprinting across the battlefield to engage the leader of the enemy forces, Leofwine. His battlecry echoed through the air, before he was stopped in his tracks - his assailants were a Priest and a Norse Shaman. Wearied from the battle, The Warlock struggled to battle his enemies; the shaman hurled flame and ice as the priest was uttering some strange christian spell in latin. After a long struggle, The Warlock dropped to his knees, defeated. Though The Warlock was immortal, the priest used his own magic against him - Runes began to burn across The Warlock’s blade as the priest and the shaman boldly declared:


Eternity, an early grave; I cast ye out, Satan’s Slave.

endless slumber - til the end of time - never again shall ye rise.


And thus, The Sword of Eternity was created. At that very moment, the heavens opened and a bolt of flaming lightning struck The Warlock down. As the rain poured upon the battlefield, washing away the blood of Æfintýr, Saxon and Dane alike, The Warlock entered a deep sleep, never to awaken again. The battle was over, the Æfintýr had fallen.


iv) The following weeks have been dark. The Warlock was buried alive, deep in slumber, beneath the dirt - doomed to be forgotten. All throughout the Æfintýr’s home land of Britanni, and the rest of the world, the few remaining magical beings were gathered by the forces of the church and slain. Countless tomes, artefacts, and other traces of the Æfintýr were found and destroyed. The ships and ports of ‘Arry the Red and his fellow corsairs were razed to the sea - their treasures taken as gifts for the Pope. Horace’s workshop was seized by the crown, his notes stolen by Saxon engineers who began immediately began reproducing his greatest creation - Gunpowder. At Sherwood, the home of the elves was destroyed, their advancements in arms and armour claimed by the Danish King Cnut, the last of their long lived lines executed before crowds in Nottingham. The worst of the massacres was that of the Dwarves beneath Lochnagar. With fire and smoke they were drawn out and slain; Man, woman and child alike were slain without prejudice before the precious things mined by them were stolen and the tunnels into their kingdom were sealed forever. Of course, all the peoples of Britannia who had been associated with The Warlock and his party are being rounded up and murdered. Before long, all evidence of the Æfintýr will be wiped out, save for tales told between folk. The days are long now, as I hide with others awaiting our discovery. Let it be known that The Warlock will rise again, and the vengeance of the Æfintýr will be swift. They are here now, they have found us. Mercia will fall, The Warlock does not forget, The Warlock will rise aga-


57 views

Recent Posts

See All

2 Comments


Steve Tnuc Abbott
Steve Tnuc Abbott
Jul 03, 2021

Great tale. Micklesoft Vindows? Really?

Like
Cal W
Cal W
Jul 03, 2021
Replying to

Vindows turned out to be Mackintosh's greatest foe...

Like
bottom of page