A Kaelic Tale

The last mournful note still hung in the air, when the warrior-poet Fiona McIntyre lay down her bagpipes and looked at her enraptured audience. There was a nervous energy amongst the Followers of the Claymore.

Some of the womenfolk began to sob, no doubt moved her haunting melody of a beautiful and free homeland. Even the sturdy men, tall, robust red-headed warriors of Klantyre, had tears brimming in their eyes. Perhaps they were seeing visions of what they were fighting for, a Highlands free from suffering, oppression, and the evil that magic brought upon them.

Fiona knew she could not end her performance on that poignant note, so she began to tell a tale to inspire them: a legend of a holy knight of Klantyre and his quest for three sacred vessels from the Immortals, that promised to bring freedom and salvation to the people of their beloved Klantyre.

Once upon a time, there was a young knight named Sir Bruce. Sir Bruce had a kind nature and a good heart, but a very old soul. He lived in a terrible country called Klantyre, where the common folk were poor and labored the harsh land just to survive, and where the lairds of the land practiced terrible sorcery and thought nothing of oppressing the commoners who wielded no magic. The Princes of Klantyre were worst of all, for they were wizards who wielded magic over life and death itself and made dark pacts with Immortal beings from other planes of existence.

Because of his kind nature and good heart, Sir Bruce longed to help the helpless folk of Klantyre, but because of his old soul, he agonized deeply for the misery of the people. Bruce was in such turmoil about these mysteries of life. Why must the common folk suffer so? Why do wizards persecute the commoners? And why must we die after all the suffering on this world?

Bruce sought answers to these questions which tormented him, but could not pray to the Immortals for enlightenment, for this was forbidden by the lairds of the land. Instead, Bruce ran away into the depths of the wilderness in the hopes of finding some peace.

On his first day in the woods, Sir Bruce came upon a young Flaemish boy, whose copper-skin had turned blue because he was so cold. The boy was huddled over a cold dying flame, so Bruce, our of the kindness of his nature and the goodness of his heart, gathered sticks and branches and rekindled the boy's flame.

Once the fire grew bright and the boy was warm, the boy stood up and revealed his true nature to Sir Bruce.

"I am Razud and I am pleased with thee. Thou shalt be my servant and help those who toil and suffer for a better life."

At this point, Bruce was on his knees for he dared not look straight in the blazing glory of the Immortal. Bruce was only able to stammer out a question, "But how can I serve thee, when priests and clerics are forbidden by the lairds of Klantyre?"

"What little faith thou hast!" replied the blazing youth, "Give me thy claymore. This shall be the secret symbol of thy ministry to me."

Then, a grail of pure gold, surrounded by an aura of burning flames appeared before Bruce.

"With this cup, I grant thee the power to heal those who suffer and ail. Thou shalt do this in my name."

And after Bruce drank the quaff from the Blazing Grail of Razud, everything disappeared like in a dream.

In his second day in the wilderness, or perhaps it was nighttime, Sir Bruce came upon a Thyatian lady being attacked by a knight in armor. The lady valiantly tried to defend herself with her sword, but the armored knight was relentless in his attacks. Summoning all his courage and valor, Bruce came to the rescue of the lady. With a mighty blow, he struck the knight with his blessed claymore, and off came the helm from the armor, revealing the armor was an empty shell that collapsed to the ground. Once Sir Bruce realized the magical nature of his adversary, he turned to woman, and she stood her full height and revealed her true nature to Sir Bruce.

"I am Vanya and I am pleased with thee. Thou shalt be my servant and aid those who fight against magic and sorcery."

At this point, Bruce was on his knees for he dared not look straight into the steel-gray eyes of the Immortal. Bruce only stammered out a question, "But how can I serve thee, when I already serve another?"

"What little wisdom thou hast!" replied the gray lady, "Thy ministry with the Blazing One need not interfere with thy mission to me."

Then, a goblet of solid pewter, rough-hewn yet splendid, coarsely-crafted yet beautiful, appeared before Bruce.

"With this cup, I grant thee protection from the greatest magic of the land, from the past, the present, the future, and from all other times. Thou shalt defend those who only have sword and strength to fight against wand and wizardry. Thou shalt do this in my name."

And after Bruce drank the draft from the Pewter Goblet of Vanya, everything disappeared like in a dream.

It was the third night in the wilds of Klantyre that Sir Bruce came upon an old Traladaran man digging a grave for his dead wife and child. But the ground was solid as rock, and the bone-thin old man was tired and weak. So out of the kindness of his nature and the goodness of his heart, Sir Bruce took up the spade and dug a grave for the dead family. It took all night for Bruce to dig a grave deep enough for the old man's family, but dawn seemed nowhere near approaching. And as Bruce dug, the bodies of the old man's wife and child seem to wither and rot before his eyes, and the old man as well, pale and frail as he was, seemed to take on a more skeletal visage. But finally, Bruce's grim task was complete, and the corpses of the dead were laid to rest. At that point, the old man revealed his true nature to Sir Bruce.

"I am Thanatos and I am pleased with thee. Thou shalt be my servant and ward against those who trespass the laws of life and death."

Again, Bruce was on his knees for the clatter of the skull-teeth and the haunted graveyard voice chilled him to the bone. He could not even stammer out a question or a protest.

A chalice of cold-forged iron, matted with frightful images of corpses and bones, appeared before Bruce.

"With this cup, I grant thee safeguard against mortal death and the dark forces of necromancy. Thou shalt walk unharmed and unscathed through the magic of those with flaunt the ways of death. Thou shalt do this in my name."

Sir Bruce returned from the wilderness a changed man. From that time forth, he dedicated his life to aid those who suffered and toiled. He fought against the lairds of the lands who used magic and sorcery to oppress the common folk. He even stood against the Princes of Klantyre, masters of death and necromancy, and resisted their dark and damnable powers. He became a hero to the people and went down in legend. And though no one has seen him since, people believe that to this day Sir Bruce continues to fight for the freedom of his beloved Klantyre.

Fiona McIntyre surveyed her audience, thoroughly captivated by her tale. Words of wonder were passed among the warriors and their women. Sir Bruce the Holy Crusader. The Blazing Grail of Razud. The Pewter Goblet of Vanya. The Iron Chalice of Thanatos. These were the images and icons that inspired the Followers of the Claymore to continue their crusade for their homeland.

Author: Kit Navarro