Sacred 2:The Legend of Kal'Dur

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A tale of Northern history

“By Lumen endowed, by Lumen protected!”

Thorbrand Kaldur, son to lord Magnus Kaldur, lord of the Northern Isle of Ice, was born under the second moon of winter. To his people, this was a sign of coming greatness. Thorbrand would be one of the greatest hero’s they had ever known. To his great misfortune, he was regarded and revered as such already, yet no great deeds had found him yet. Not that he did not look for opportunities. He would embark with his fellow warriors to plague the lands of Artamark time upon time, but to him it seemed he was just one of the warriors. Nothing special!

The raids would come and go, the plunder and loot would differ every time, but with every return to his home, Thorbrand’s mood grew darker.

How was he to be what was expected of him?

Becoming the greatest of his people, when he had nothing to present than some mere loot and tales of victory?

With one of his darker moods, Thorbrand wandered into the Northern reaches of the isle. A savage, uninhabited reach of mountains, plagued by bitter cold winds and only few known places for shelter. He had passed all of those places, when he felt a great storm gathering strength.

He cursed into his beard: “Bah! Thorbrand Kaldur, the great ‘hero’ of the Northern Isle, killed in a mere storm! What a tale would that make!”

Muttering on, his eyes searched the mountains for a possible hideout, where he could weather the storm. And sure enough, a distance up the mountain he was climbing, he saw what could be a cave. Hard to see, as snowflakes were filling the sky so fast, that he would soon be unable to see anything. Picking up his pace, both to reach safety and stay warm, he hurried up the mountain, knowing that if his eyes had betrayed him, it would be for the last time.

A sigh a great relief escaped him, when he reached what was indeed a cave. As he entered, he realized that this was not just a cave. It was not big, but it shone with a blue light. Searching for the source of this light, he found an altar where clearly this light was radiating from.

Upon the altar he found an axe so beautiful, that he immediately felt awed.

Inscribed upon the handle, in blue letters pulsing with inner light, was:

By Lumen endowed, by Lumen protected’ he read, knowing that this was the most special weapon he had ever seen, nor ever would see. A veritable weapon of the Gods!

"Aen lífdagar, aen rata tar sjá øx. Minn vilja elta ar nauðsyn, eða selja réttr jafnaðr!"* he said, as his hand closed around the hilt, never to let go of it in his entire life.

  • (“If it liveth, It shall fall to my axe. I shall pursue as needed, and exact rightful punishment!”)

When the storm had subsided, and Thorbrand had returned home with his new weapon, his tale began. Although he noticed that raids, plundering and pillaging where a thing of the past. Wielding this mighty axe, he could do only good. He would wander the lands of Ancaria, searching out those that were in need of help. Nothing could withstand his mighty axe, as it seemed that with every swing, he grew stronger, and his foe weaker. Man and beast fell to his axe. He was even known for slaying the great white dragon of the North.

Years upon years had he hunted evil, the axe bestowing him with an unnatural prolonged life, when tales of his heroic deeds were still plentiful, but no longer swelling. No new feats of heroism reached the ears of the people of Ancaria. Thorbrand Kaldur, the greatest hero of all time, was gone, and never seen or heard of again.

Although a great many adventurer has gone off in search of his fabled axe, Thorbrand or ‘Kal’Dur’s Legacy has yet to be found again!

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