Sword of Shepren

By Dragan Vujic

The Sword of Shepren chronicles the adventures of a young swordsman. Darwal, a Buclan Warrior from the village of Shepren, sets off on a quest to obtain the blue stone that glows for an advanced Reptilian race. The coveted object is located in a crystal palace that rests in the middle of a clear blue lake. In order to reach the castle, Darwal must traverse several strange lands whose fierce inhabitants are not of human origin. Along the way, the Buclan Warrior fights numerous battles, meets strange life forms and falls in love. After slashing his way through the cat creatures domain, he is subsequently captured by the snake people. With the assistance of his loved one, Darwal escapes from the Stone of Pain and proceeds to Castle Cain. There new adventures await him. All of these episodes transpire in the unwritten period of history where mystery shrouded reality and magic reigned supreme. It was a time when anything was possible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 25, 2001
• ISBN: 9781462086139

Dragan Vujic

Dragan Vujic is a writer and an avid outdoorsman. He resides in rural southern Ontario, Canada where he enjoys a quiet, serene lifestyle. Dragan may be contacted at: [e-mail] or [e-mail].

Book preview

C H A P T E R O N E

Introduction 

ONCE UPON A TIME, a long, long time ago, many forms of intelligence ruled the earth. The life forms known as humans comprised only a small percentage of the whole. Reptilian, Mammalian and Devonian races dominated this planet and forged primitive civilizations out of raw wilderness. The three main races were divided into several species and these in turn were subdivided into numerous subspecies. The many advantages of working, living and staying together became self-evident. Everyone knew that there was always safety and security in numbers. Unified by common goals, needs and interests, pockets of intelligent life began to emerge. Small settlements sprouted everywhere. Wind swept plains, unsurpassable mountain ranges, dense dark swamps, weaving grasslands and heavily wooded forests became the breeding grounds for the evolving life forms.

It was a time when reality and the necromantic intertwined and became one, covering the truthful appearance of the past. Myth coloured fact. This unwritten period in history will forever remain unknown—shrouded in the mists of time. The numerous opposing forces in the form of interracial tribes fought great battles. Each vied for supremacy. Heroes and villains became a matter of perception. Divine intervention was not uncommon. Dominance was the object of every war. It was a time of turmoil, chaos and anarchy. Even the gods fought fiercely in the sky. Some enjoyed the sweet fruits of victory, while others painfully swallowed the bitter dregs of defeat. Peace and tranquility were far away dreams.

Through the passing of the ages, the less competitive became extinct and today the human race is the sole superior form of intelligence. This was not always so. Time has obliterated those who lacked the flexibility to adapt to the constantly impending environmental changes.

Within this savage context, a brave human swordsman made his mark. His unforgettable story is often told. And although this memorable warrior has long since passed away, he will live forever in the hearts and minds of many. True heroes never die.

C H A P T E R T W O

Shepren 

The focal point of this tale is the village of Shepren. A relatively large settlement by comparison, Shepren hosted some five hundred inhabitants—all human. And although still in the primitive stages of evolution, the Sheprenians devised and implemented a system of specialization and division of labour. Trades were beginning to emerge. Each person, at an early age, began training in a designated area. Thus, freed from self-sufficiency, everyone had the opportunity to master and further develop one’s chosen skill. Simple by nature, the villagers had no concept of money—except one, Master Larl—but they did have an intricate barter scheme.

Sheprenians worshipped Gan, the god of the sun. He showered them with his warm rays and they were comforted. All good things came from above—from the sky. Somewhere up there was a place called Harmony. That was where Gan and his helpers lived. The helpers were called angels and they brought good things to the villagers. Whereas, all evil came form below where it dwelled deep down in the bowels of the earth. The anti-god, Tarsom, lived there in the realm known as Discord. A long time ago, Gan and Tarsom fought a fierce battle in the sky. Gan defeated Tarsom but did not have the heart to kill her. So instead, Tarsom was banished to a place of eternal darkness. Primitive paganism with a pantheon of two gods comprised the spiritual beliefs of all the villagers.

The actual battle of the gods merits some elucidation at this point. All those who witnessed the event have long since passed away. Yet, the memorable sky war survived on the lips of the peasants and has been handed down from generation to generation.

According to oral tradition, both Gan and Tarsom were superior beings possessing supernatural powers. They were endowed with human appearance, but were definitely not of earthly demeanour. Gan is portrayed as a kind man, always dressed in shining white robes. No one ever clearly saw his face due to the fact that his entire head had a radiating aura of golden rays, thus his appellation—the sun god. Gan was well known for his sincere desire to alleviate the hardships of mortals. He freely shared his knowledge with and gave guidance to all those who asked. Although he never meddled in the affairs of the villagers, nor in their battles with other life forms, the sun god readily offered advice if requested to do so. It should be noted that Gan consistently refused to discuss matters related to war and weaponry. He confined his advice primarily to interpersonal matters—matters of social significance.

On several occasions, he informed the villagers that he and others like him who lived in unknown worlds above the earth had made a universal pact never to interfere with the evolution of the earth. Noninterference was the primary directive of the gods. Breach of this sacred covenant would set off a chain reaction, which could potentially destroy all life forms on this fertile planet.

Tarsom, on the other hand, always wore dark apparel. All orators depict her as an extremely beautiful woman with very fine facial features and long flowing black hair. Her dark eyes had a hypnotic effect on all those with whom she spoke. Oft times a pretty face can hide an evil mind. Tarsom repeatedly destroyed life forms with the mere touch of her hand, usually at her whim for no predictable reason. She seemed to delight in destruction. Tarsom did not appear to be bound by any of the universal space god directives.

Gan and Tarsom coexisted peacefully in their respective domains somewhere in the heavens. However, we are all well aware that tranquility is transitory. Tarsom shattered the bond of peace by proclaiming dominion over Shepren. She attempted to enslave this primitive village of simple peasants to do her bidding. Gan resisted her proclamation, claiming the hamlet for his own and insisted that the goddess of darkness refrain from her self-gratifying demands. Tarsom persisted and demanded a duel with Gan to decide the fate of the mere mortals. Although Gan was known as an entity of peace and goodwill, he agreed to what he considered a senseless challenge.

At the appointed hour, both gods met in the sky above the village of Shepren. Their chariots of fire flashed radiantly in the brilliant sun. All the villagers gathered below to view the spectacle. The outcome would decide their fate. Within a short measure of time, the sky was filled with lightning bolts, fire and strange coloured lights. Some say that this battle lasted for a considerable period of time, others, that it was over in an instant. Accuracy on this point is impossible to ascertain given the differing opinions of the story tellers. Albeit, all agree that the sky war ended with an explosion that deafened the air. Tarsom’s burning black chariot fell from the heavens to the earth below. Upon impact, three further explosions were heard. Burning debris was scattered everywhere.

The cheering peasants ran towards the estimated crash site, which was a fair distance from the village itself. They arrived just in time to see the sun god alight from his own battered, smoking chariot and run towards the downed vehicle of his opponent. The Sheprenians continued to shout and cheer, nowhere was there a tear shed for the vanquished goddess. Gan pulled Tarsom from the burning wreck, placed his weapon to her forehead, but never fired. A tear hesitantly crept from his eye. He spared her life. No one ever understood why he let her live. That secret remains untold forever.

In lieu of taking her life, Gan imprisoned Tarsom in a strange dark kingdom beneath the earth. She continued to rule, but became queen of the underworld which proved to be much more suitable to her inner nature. There is no escape from the realm of evil. Thus, Tarsom, for all eternity, became the seeker of tarnished souls and to Gan came all those who were unblemished.

Subsequently, the villagers perceived death to be a transitional stage in life wherein one came to a fork in the road—the good continued their journey to Gan, the evil ones fell to Tarsom. The measure of time is, always was, always will be relative. And although no one has actually seen Gan for the last three generations, the Sheprenians still faithfully worship him. Some say that the sun god, deeply troubled by this ordeal with Tarsom and fatally wounded by her, left the villagers to fend for themselves shortly thereafter. He gave them freedom; the rest was up to them. Gan may be gone, but he will never be forgotten.

Shepren had one very unusual feature—Master Larl and his school of the two-hand sword. Master Larl came to this village a long time ago—no one knows exactly when. He had ventured forth from the south, from a place far, far away. With the master came his smithy, the forger of divine swords. Both settled in Shepren and were very well provided for in return for their unique services. High in status, Master Larl and his assistant sat only below the village leader, King Brulu. Both individuals were human in appearance but possessed extraordinary talents—skills beyond the comprehension of peasants.

Master Larl was a wizard of the two-hand sword. His mastery of the deadly blade defied description. He opened a school in Shepren and taught others, although very few, the use of this weapon. His students, currently twelve in number, were selected at the early age of ten to begin their training, which continued throughout their lifetime. The master would choose one new student every two years. Then the smithy would begin forging a new sword for the young swordsman to be. It required approximately three years to complete construction of the warrior’s weapon. A lot of time, skill and effort would go into the work. However, upon completion, the sword was perfect in every aspect—it was balanced to perfection, it would never break, never rust, and it would forever stay sharp. After three years of basic training, the young combatant was presented with his sword, which would be his constant companion for life. In time, sword and swordsman would merge and become one. The sword served as an extension of self. Needless to say, it was a great honour to be selected by Master Larl as one of his students.

The sword itself was of a curious design and merits some description. Forged out of one piece of steel, the weapon stood about two palm widths above the waist of the swordsman. The handle itself was roughly three palm widths and was tightly wrapped in hard treated leather. Approximately three fingers in breadth, the blade was double edged and came to a sharp point roughly four fingers from the tip. A small S shaped oval piece separated the hilt from the blade. Honed, razor sharp and perfectly balanced, the sword was an awesome instrument of death in the hands of a skilled swordsman.

The legendary skill and prowess of Master Larl and his followers was well known, near and far. On many occasions in the past, a handful of these swift swordsmen successfully defended Shepren against hordes of invaders. None had ever penetrated Shepren. Large numbers and incredible odds had no meaning to the unshakeable warriors of the two-hand sword school. A swordsman had never been killed, nor even wounded in these onslaughts. Yet, the attackers always suffered heavy losses and never returned to try again. Master Larl’s students were known as the Buclan Warriors which became synonymous with invincible. Yes, the master had taught them well and the warriors, in turn, trained hard each and every day—from dawn until dusk they practiced with their death dealing weapons. The swordsmen commenced each day with the recital of the Buclan Code: To Serve Others. By Serving Others, We Serve Ourselves.

Master Larl had other distinguishing features. For instance, except for his bushy eyebrows, he had no hair. While the rest of the villagers wore clothing made of tanned animal hides, some beautifully decorated, the master was always robed in fine garments made of silk and satin. But then, unlike the simple peasants who he protected,

Master Larl knew the meaning and value of money and how to use it. Often he would leave the village and travel to unknown lands. Returning several weeks later, he would bring back to Shepren marvels never seen before. There was something mysterious about the master— the master of the game of death. No one really knew where the master came from. Where he went was also a mystery. However, all respected him and felt secure with his presence in the village. Yes, in an unsettled world, the warrior class is always held in high regard and there from stems their elite status.

As the sun rose, the village awakened. All commenced their labours at sunrise and ceased at sunset. Everyone worked. Nothing was free. This was definitely not a welfare society. The Buclan Warriors started their training. The farmers headed for the fields, while the trappers rushed off to gather their catch for the day. One could hear the increasing sounds of morning activities. The blacksmith stoked his forge. Even King Brulu was scurrying about preparing for his daily council meeting. The tannery also opened its doors. This was a typical day until the ringing of the village bell suddenly interrupted the routine.

Riders were approaching. However, they did not amount to a raiding party. Only three mounted figures could be seen in the distance. Master Larl quickly dispatched two of his warriors to the hamlet’s perimeter to escort the visitors to the council hall where all strangers were welcomed and heard. Many came to trade, others to tell tales, still others to sing songs and a few, who had heard of the legendary Buclan Warriors, to hire their services.

As the riders drew closer, it became evident that they were Mawashi mounted on trained dogs. The visitors were of a reptilian base, about half the size of humans, bipedal, platy cephalic and generally well known for their scientific achievements. Clad in dark black robes that stretched from head to foot, they kept their faces covered as well. All that could be seen were their piercing red eyes. Everyone knew that these life forms were very ugly and very self conscious of their appearance to others. Another certain fact—they were cold-blooded scaly creatures. Their home lay approximately seven days journey to the south, beyond the red plain and past the sea of fire.

The Sheprenians stopped whatever they were doing and closely observed the lizard life forms. One noticed that their footwear was made of leather as were the saddles on the dogs. The robes were of a somewhat different material that was not familiar to the peasants. They carried no weapons. Obviously, they came in peace. Escorted to the council hall by the Buclan Warriors, the Mawashi dismounted and stood there for a moment. Not a word was spoken.

Then, King Brulu came forward, welcomed the visitors and invited them to enter the great hall. All three reptiles bowed with courtesy and entered the wooden structure. The doors were shut. Everyone returned to their activities as the gathered crowd dispersed and the village resumed normalcy.

C H A P T E R T H R E E

The Quest 

The council hall was circular in form. Village carpenters had constructed this huge edifice long before the rule of the present king. The reigning monarch of that period had ordered the great hall to be built without windows. He considered outside light a distraction. Thus, lack of it enabled one to better concentrate and reflect on the topic of discussion. King Mega is still remembered for his wisdom. Small glowing fires, strategically scattered, dimly lit the large room.

King Brulu sat at the north end of the council hall. Beside him on his left, sat Master Larl. The master’s presence was requested at all such meetings. Frequently, the visitors required the services of his students. Further on the monarch’s left and along the east side, six council members were assembled. The other half dozen arranged themselves on the west side.

Evenly divided, half on each flank of their ruler, the council of twelve patiently waited to hear the reasons for the Mawashi visit to their humble village. At the south end, the three short strangers stood motionless, eager to tell their tale. Thus the inner circle was complete. The large double doors, the only way in and out of the great hall, were bolted. Those within would not be disturbed. Once the entrance doors were closed, outside noises could not be heard. Silence reigned. Curiosity filled the air.

King Brulu spoke first, "Greetings, my friends. Welcome to my village of Shepren. It appears that you have journeyed far, please, be seated.

Beside me sits Master Larl, swordsman and protector of us all. My council of twelve is evenly divided on both sides of you. Now, without further delay, be so kind as to tell us why you have come to Shepren."

The three wayfarers sat on the wooden bench provided for them. Then the one on the right hand side of the monarch said, Thank-you, your highness, for granting us an audience and so quickly. We are Mawashi from the town of Ultra, which is approximately seven days ride from here to the south, beyond the plain of the red sands and the sea of fire. I am called Vires. Beside me is my wife, Axa, and the third member of the group is our friend, Lusk.. Surprisingly the reptile spoke the human language very well. He talked slowly and clearly, yet a faint reptilian accent was still noticeable.

Vires continued, We come as messengers from our home to beseech a favour of you. We require the services of one of your fighters.. As soon as Vires had mentioned the request, his wife stood up, picked up two leather bags and carried these to the front. One she placed before the ruler, the other at the feet of the swordsman. Axa then proceeded to open them. Once the flap was removed, gold coins poured forth. Yes, the services of the Buclan Warriors did not come cheap. One always paid a premium for quality.

Master Larl’s eyes lit up as the glittering objects fell forward. A smile crept across his lips. He knew well the value of money and would spend his portion on pleasures unknown to the rest of these simple peasants. Anticipation danced all over his face. On the other hand, King Brulu had no concept of money but liked to collect it. Shiny artifacts impressed the unenlightened, uninitiated monarch. His share would gather dust somewhere in a locked chest. Two men of different values and knowledge derived a mutual benefit by sharing the same civilization.

I will not bore you with a detailed description of our technology., continued the Mawashi, Suffice it to say that our cultural, social, scientific and technological development is far in advance of your own.

If your civilization possesses such great knowledge, why do you seek the services of a relatively barbaric culture such as ours?, interjected Master Larl. He had traveled far and had experienced much. Mawashi scientific accomplishments were well known to him, yet not thoroughly understood.

Even science has its limitations. Knowledge, no matter how abundant, is a poor substitute for mobility and dexterity. Our quest warrants great skill, such as that possessed by your warriors. Technology alone cannot penetrate the numerous barriers that block the path to our desired goal., replied the Mawashi spokesperson.

Yes, that is understandable. Please continue. You have more than paid the price for the services of one of our skilled swordsmen. Explain what you would have him do., stated Master Larl.

The blue stone that glows—Krydonite, to be exact—powers our city. Without it nothing would work. Unfortunately, our present power source grows dim and is steadily fading with the passing of each day, losing its strength if you will. We require another blue stone that glows, due to the fact that we have no more. This object is about the size of a human’s head and is perfectly spherical. Castle Cain hoards such a stone deep within its crystal walls. The rock is fresh and radiant, providing an abundance of power, yet they have no use for it. We, on the other hand, are in dire need of that glowing sphere. Can one of your kind obtain it for us?, elucidated Vires.

Yes, certainly. But I am only vaguely familiar with the territory to the north wherein, I believe, Castle Cain is situated. Could you provide more information pertaining to its exact location?, queried the master. King Brulu and his council of wise men sat in silence and allowed Master Larl to conduct the conversation with their guests. He was much better versed in these matters than they.

Of course., replied Vires and glanced at his spouse. Axa immediately stood up, reached into her garment and pulled out a cylindrical leather bound case. She then walked up to the front and handed this object to

Master Larl. The master swordsman examined the case, opened it and pulled out a rolled up piece of leather. Untying the ends, he spread it on the floor. It was a map.

As you can see,, began Vires, Your village is located in the southwest end of this map and Castle Cain is situate at the north-east corner. Your swordsman will have to pass through several civilizations unlike your own in order to arrive there. The journey is a long and a difficult one. May I suggest that you send two warriors.

NO!, came the abrupt, emphatic reply. Master Larl, still pensively examining the map, looked up at the Mawashi and firmly stated, One is sufficient. A Buclan Warrior always returns, always completes his given mission. There have been no failures in the past and there shall be none in the future. My swordsmen travel alone. You have no reason to doubt their ability. I have trained each and every one of them myself and I only send the most capable when I feel that he has acquired the necessary skills to survive and succeed. I will send one such individual and I assure you that he will return with the precious blue stone that glows.

We have great confidence in the abilities of your men of the deadly blade. Otherwise, we would not have come. However, due to the perilous nature of this assignment, I though that it would be safer to send two such swordsmen to ensure success. Of course, the final decision is yours and we will respect and abide by it., stated the Mawashi.

One is enough. Now, perhaps, you could explain some of this unfamiliar territory beyond Kevu Plain., calmly reassured the master.

"As you are aware, a portion of the Kevu Plain lies to the north of Shepren. According to legend, this wasteland was once the site of a very advanced reptilian civilization. Immense crystal cities reached high into the peaceful sky. The inhabitants, known as Meriams, floated through the air without the use of vehicles. Travel, like everything else, was highly developed. However, all of this came to an end. Devastation and destruction overpowered tranquility. The entire populace perished in a nuclear war with the sky dwellers known as the Helluvians. Time has long since erased all records of the Meriam existence. Presently, only desert winds sweep the sands.

Reports depicting strange and unexplained occurrences are numerous and varied. Yet, all remain unverified. In any event, no one has suffered any detriment in this wasteland. There are no apparent dangers, only those created by a vivid imagination. We estimate one day’s journey on foot to cross this sand swept desert. I believe that your warriors travel on foot.", commenced the Mawashi.

Yes, my swordsmen are foot soldiers. They require no horses or other aids. In addendum, they travel light, taking with them only their sword. Provisions such as food and water are procured along the way. My men are very resourceful. I taught each and everyone myself., commented Master Larl.

True, all have heard of the extraordinary capabilities of the Buclan Warriors., replied Vires. Then glancing at a map identical to the one in the hands of Master Larl, he continued, Impassable mountain ranges lie beyond the Kevu Plain. However, what was once a fertile valley cuts through these mountains to Castle Cain. Unfortunately, several portions of this valley currently host a few settlements of various life forms. Yet, despite these quasi-civilizations, a path still exists which will take one to the enchanted castle. Yes, someone possessing unique skills such as those of your swordsmen can reach Castle Cain.

The reptilian orator paused for a moment and then continued, "Having crossed Kevu Plain, you disciple of death will come upon savannah grasslands. Herein lies the mouth of the valley, which leads to Castle Cain. Mountains surround both sides. The quest seeker should continue his journey to the north, following the valley bed. Beyond the grassy fields, about a half day’s travel, lies a woodland known as Bowad Forest. Regrettably, this wooded area cannot be bypassed.

Bowads, the inhabitants of this forest, are mammalian in origin, same as your race. Albeit, they are on a much lower level of evolution. They are of a species that you commonly refer to as cats. These primitives share many of your features such as bipedalism, body form except that theirs is covered with tannish brown fur, and, of course, you passion for violence. Physically, they are very powerful and stand approximately three heads higher than your people. Their body is the same shape as yours, but their heads resembled those of cats. In all probability, you humans and these Bowads had at one time a common ancestor.

Rudimentary as it may be, this species acquired the power of speech, which in turn led to organization and to a somewhat orderly civilization. They have also developed very efficient fighting skills despite the fact that their only weapon is the wooden spear with two sharpened tips. Beware, they are well versed in the use of this primitive weapon and are deadly accurate in throwing it considerable distances. Do not underestimate these individuals—they amount to worthy opponents. Victory means everything to them and they regard death as a consequence of winning. Thus, they are suicidal in their attacks. Another point—they travel in packs of seven or more, never alone.

In light of all of this, they are extremely limited—prisoners of their own realm. Due to the fact that the Bowads are an overly specialized species, they cannot leave the forest. Therefore, once your warrior has passed through their territory, they will not be able to follow him.", elucidated the Mawashi.

Yes, I have heard tell of these cat creatures and their mighty prowess. They have been known to kill and eat humans. Be that as it may, I am confident that my swordsman will cut a bloody path through them all to reach his destination. He will regard them as minor interferences lurking in the way of his goal. The master shared some of his thoughts.

Throughout the Mawashi elucidation, King Brulu and his twelve council members sat in silence, listening intently to every word that issued forth from the reptile’s mouth. They were all familiar with Kevu Plain. Only a small portion of it