Yspaddaden Introduction

 The most exciting thing in the world to me is a blank page.

Yet as I look down on this fresh new paper, white as the clouds in the sky, I cannot help but be a bit frightened. You see, I haven't written anything of this magnitude in years, and I'm nervous to start something fresh and new. The story of Yspaddaden, arguably one of the greatest warriors this planet has ever seen, is a fascinating one, and spans many more years than I have the room for on these papers. And I do not want to fail in this endeavor. I want these writings to be good, I want them to echo the mystery and intrigue the story itself speaks of. I am excited. But I am also afraid.

My name is Taisha. I was born in Ifield and now reside in Uisnech. I am one hundred and thirty three years old, still thought by most of my race to be a young woman. But I have done many things in my time. I have seen many places, met strange people, and I have crafted many stories. But I hope these to be my best.

When I first learned of the Writings of Yspaddaden, I knew I had to be the one to tell his story. There were plenty of people who wanted the same honour, but I'm proud to say that I finally got the job, after much hard work. The world is changing, the number of literate people rising every day. Our world is slowly morphing into one that relies on books and writings. Knowledge is the new commodity. And it's people like me that control the export.

I chose the story of Yspaddaden to write first, not because he was the first Sword Lord, but because he was the most widely known. He has become famous for his mythical writings, a legend to this country and most others. I chose this specific story to tell because it is arguably his most famous of adventures. Not much is known about Yspaddaden, Warrior of Ynwfn, but everyone has been told the story of how he found the Aszkastone, hidden in the unknown. I want to now make that story true to those who think they know it.

I look around the room I sit in now, wondering what sort of people have holed themselves away within these very walls to attack a task such as mine. What sort of creatures have hidden away from the world as I do now, writing out what they believe to be the next great manuscript? Countless, I'm sure. And I am here, attempting to copy them in their endeavors. The fire flickers in the place, the stars and moon shine outside, and I will not leave this room until I am finished, or until my hand grows so weary that my letters become unreadable. I hope that you will follow me on this journey willingly.

I write this for you. If you will only trust me, if you will only open up your mind to come along on this quest with me, I promise that your work will not be for naught. I certainly hope mine not to be. This is a journey that we must take together, writer and reader. Without the one of us, there is not the other. Either we both exist, or neither one of us do. Trust me. And we will both be fulfilled.

Sword Lords:

Yspaddaden the Mercenary

adapted from the journalings of

Yspaddaden

written by

Taisha

translated by

J.A. Dudley

property of

Uisnech University United Press

Y. 5958

There is a legend. A legend so old it can only be called myth. A legend that, before now, seemed too impossible to be true. Many have heard the name of Yspaddaden, the greatest Sword Lord of Ynwfn. His name is whispered in dim rooms, lit only by firelight. Mothers tell the tale to their youngsters as they rock them into slumber. Children carve sticks into make-up swords and playact their favourite characters. Elders watch all with wise eyes, never agreeing with, nor at the same time denying the stories that are told. Before now, when myth was but legend, bedside stories were all we had. No one knew the truth behind them, no one really believed that there was truth. Back then, when such stories were born, half the world was still illiterate, forcing the populace to relate their stories verbally. Memories last a long time, but creativity is a much stronger beast. Time begat time, and the mutation that arose grew into its own. If descendant could gaze at the face of ancestor, it would not know it. Too much has happened in-between then and now for the legend to be recognised. Legend has become something that Time did not attempt to create, nor did it anticipate. Myth. Seemingly long dead. No more. Hear this. Recently buried, now brought back to life. The legend of the myth. The story of Yspaddaden. Second Sword Lord of Ynwfn.