Welcome to Kelestia.com!

"We have to rest", said Tárenis, turning to his companion, Márden, as the two young men reached the pass of Kel Stûras, having ridden hard north across the barony of Néln, avoiding all contact with locals.

Their horses were exhausted, and the two young men were equally tired, not having halted since leaving the ford of Òdelýn. They had begun their journey early that morning, had slept little the night before, and had been travelling south on this same route only the day before.

Márden paced back and forth in his Lord's chamber, his mind racing. What had happened? Why was the constable, Sir Hâraden, concerned? And what did it all have to do with him?

Tárenis had tried to keep his friend calm, but given up. He sat, moodily, at the great table. He was just as perplexed as his companion.

Márden stopped pacing.

"What in all of Keléstia is all this about?" he fumed. "And why, of all things, has the constable locked you, my Lord's son, and I in these chambers?"

Tárenis shrugged. "I have no more idea than you, Márden. Come; sit down and wait. My father said he would be with us soon - then we will know what this is all about."

“See, there... a fine goose..." whispered the young man to his companion.

The two were well dressed, in fine leathers and boots, but were hunkered low amongst tall reeds in the midst of a wide expanse of marshland that extended to the horizon.

Before them, on a stretch of open water, was a fine wild goose, hunting and searching for food in the margins. A cool autumn breeze blew gently across the pool.

His companion, a tall, dark-haired young man, quietly and smoothly drew back his bow, pulling back a long dark arrow. He held steady for some moments, judging the windspeed and distance, then let fly. The arrow flew straight to its mark, and deep into the chest of the goose, which let out a strangled cry, then slumped down in the water.

Jutting into the Gap of Lankor from the east is a range of high hills called the Melwy, an offshoot of the Tonatris Mountains. They have never been settled by man and only a few hunters and fur trappers now visit there, whilst timbermen and miners shun the area. The cause of this is that the hills are already claimed by a non-human (or partially human) race, the centaurs.

Most scholars regard centaurs as wholly mythical and discount tales of their existence. It is true that the race is rare, but centaurs are nevertheless found in many forests across temperate Lythia. The centaurs of the Melwy interact regularly with cousins in the wilderness of Quarphor.