Week 9

A Chronicle of The Dry Land

Only in silence the word,
Only in dark the light,
Only in dying life:
Bright the hawk's flight
On the empty sky.

- from The Creation of Éa

------====== The Second Age of Man [-1250] ======------

Selidor, the outermost isle in the West Reach of Archipelago, is a barren, desolate wasteland. It lies right amidst the dark realm of the vicious Dragonkind, where perpetual darkness rules with never-ending storms. It was not created by Segoy during the raising of the islands of Archipelago, but rather lifted up from the bottom of the sea by a band of Archmages and Rune Makers from the isle of Pendor.

It was placed there for the sole purpose of guarding the gateway to the Dry Land, which was created by the powerful wizards of the old world who sought to seal off all the evil in the world of Archipelago inside it. The Dry Land itself was made into a mirror image of Archipelago by the ancient wizards, who believed that the evil and chaos in the world were placed there to counter the order established by good.

It all started with the Vedurnan, when the ancestors of dragons and humans were given two different paths of destiny; to roam the sky freely without restraint, or to rule the land and shape the face of Archipelago.

The ones that valued order and stability chose the latter, and became humans. They moved from the sea onto the isles of Archipelago to bring order and stability to the land; they built cities and established kingdoms; as a result, the human race blossomed in prosperity and growth. However, order and prosperity came at a great price; over the centuries, in their endless pursuit of logic and order, the humans lost their ability to use the old speech - a tool granted to their ancestors at the beginning of time to control the elements and bend the rules of nature. Although there were a few who were still apt at using fragments of the old speech to call on the weather and create illusions, these skills are merely minor trickeries compared to the power and might of the old race.

Those of the old race that chose to roam the skies became dragons; they loved and embraced the chaos and endless variability of the open sky of Archipelago. But by endlessly meandering in the sky and flowing with the wind, the Dragonkind lost most of their appreciation for order and society. They mostly wander the skies alone without any destination and purpose; they roam solely for the enjoyment of its freedom. They only ever came into the realms of the humans to feed; they saw no wrongs in slaughtering innocent people and gauging on their raw flesh. To Dragons, there is no difference between a human and a sheep, because their minds seemed equally incomprehensible and irrelevant.

These fundamental differences between the two races sparked a debate among the ancient philosophers of Pendor, who deemed the two races as the manifestation of the two opposing fundamental forces of nature – order and chaos. They argued that by banishing the race of the Dragonkind, the world would thus be rid of the most formidable force of chaos and evil. And because death and disease were also thought to be elements of evil, the Pendorians hoped to banish the failings of mortality such as death and disease along with the elements of evil. And in their foolishness, the philosophers called upon the mages and sorcerers of Pendor to create a new land west of the West Reach of Archipelago for the Dragons to dwell in.

As instructed by the wisemen of Pendor, the mages raised the isle of Selidor, and beyond its walls they created a copy of Archipelago, naming it the Dry Lands. The runes inscribed on these walls locked all the elements of chaos and disorder within… All except for the Dragons. The Dragons of the land, being the most powerful beings of Archipelago, were not so easily bent to the will of humans.

Ignorant of the power held by the Dragons in their mastery of the old speech, the mages of Pendor proceeded to remove the Dragons from Archipelago by force. Thousands of battlemages and warlocks gathered at the island of Lorandor south of the newly created Selidor to make a stand against the Dragons, thinking to drive them northwards through into the Dry Land.

The wizards transformed themselves into the form of Dragons in order to match their opponents physically before going into battle. However, the mages, in all their wisdom, did not anticipate for the battle to last a full seven days. Much to the dismay of the Pendorians, more and more of the transformed mages found themselves unable to return to their human form as the battle dragged on, sinking deeper and deeper into the oblivion created by the Chaos which they fought so hard to contain. Not only were they trapped in the bodies of Dragons, the minds of the wizards are also beginning to crumble to the corruption of Chaos, rendering them more and more Dragonlike. At the end of the seven days of the Battle of Lorandor, all of the mages that came to battle the Dragons had turned into Dragons themselves.

During the ferocious battle between the two sides, the island of Lorandor was mutilated beyond all recognition; it was scorched by magical flames that melted rocks into lava; the earth shook and cracked, allowing sea water to gush in and fill the void. The wasteland created by the battle latter became known as The Dragon’s Run.

But the destruction did not stop there. The Dragons sought to destroy the power behind the attack and avenge their fallen brothers. They laid waste to all of the human kingdoms from Lorandor to Ontuego, finally arriving at the island of Pendor. The siege of Pendor was long and bloody, and lasted a full forty nine days. When the Dragons finally broke through the defences, the warriors and mages of Pendor made a last stand on the highest hill of Pendor, in the midst of the ruins of their once splendid city. But despite their courage, the defenders were vastly outnumbered and were quickly defeated and slaughtered.

A band of wizards who witnessed the creation of the Dry Land had escaped the siege and fled to the isle of Selidor, where they hoped to use the Dry Land to purge their souls of the influence of chaos in order to become immortal and therefore defeat the Dragons. However, they were neither powerful nor wise enough to control and comprehend the might of Chaos and the Dry Land. They didn’t realise that the soul is in itself an object of chaos, for it cannot be explained logically in physical terms. They also overlooked the nature of the Dry Land; it imprisons all manifestations of chaos, including human souls. Without realising their mistake, the wizards preceded to chant the spell which separated their souls from bodies in order for the transition to take place. But as soon as the soul threads were broken, their souls were sucked into the Dry Land and locked inside it forever.

Yet the bodies of the mages remained in the world of Archipelago - they were still alive when the Dragons arrived on the island. In their endless wisdom, the Dragons knew not to temper with these blasphemies of nature, and exiled these living dead to the realm of the Kargads to live out the remainder of their ‘lives’. But even the Dragons did not realise, in all their wisdom, that without the influence of the chaotic souls, the bodies, being objects of order, were able to function for all eternity.

Rumour has it that the bodies of these unfortunate wizards still roam the hills of Kargads Land in search of new souls to devour…

fanfiction version 2

The Adventures of Tintin in New Zealand

Assignment 1: Fanfiction. Telling the story of Tintin in the different mode of prose fiction and adding a scene and characters

Act One
It was 1983 and Tintin and Snowy had just arrived in Wellington, New Zealand. They were invited there as guests of the Governor General, The Hon Sir David Beattie, whom Tintin had met in Brussels the year before. Tintin had been fascinated to hear all about New Zealand and the Maori culture, so after much consideration he had decided to take up the Governor General’s invitation and make the journey to New Zealand. He was initially reluctant to travel, as he was having a particularly busy time reporting in other countries. However, the Governor General had been very persuasive in encouraging him and had offered to assist him in any way he could.

Tintin had just collected his suitcase from the airport, and the quarantine officials had released Snowy and together they headed outside. Meanwhile, waiting outside was a group of thugs and their boss was telling them what to do.
“Now listen here you lot. His name’s Tintin – a smug little world reporter guy. Tries to clean up crims and causes havoc wherever he goes. He busted some of my mates overseas and they ended up in the slammer. So grab him and his mutt and shove then into the van as soon as you see them.”
“Right-o boss.”
“That’s them! Quick let’s go.”

As quick as lightening, Tintin and Snowy were whisked into the van and with the screech of tyres were racing through the car-park.
“Hey, what’s going on?” shouted Tintin.
“Shut up and stay down” was the reply.
Then suddenly, CRASH, their speeding van hit the side of a passing police car. Tintin and Snowy took the opportunity to leap out and run to the officers.



“Quick, get those guys! They tried to kidnap me” shouted Tintin.

Suddenly Tintin heard two loud bangs. Oh no! This is a nightmare, he thought and so he hit the ground and covered his face. After a few moments he got the courage to look up. The noise turned out to be a car backfiring in the neighbouring car-park. What a relief, he thought to himself. Meanwhile a trail of thick grey smoke could be seen as the thugs had managed to get the car engine restarted and fled the scene to the smell of burning rubber from the tyres. The police car followed with its sirens screaming.



Act Two
Tintin began dusting himself off, feeling very shaky on his feet. That’s strange thought Tintin, and where’s my passport? Just then a man came by.
“Are you okay?” the man said.
“Yes, I’m thank you” replied Tintin. “Just a little shaken. A gang of thugs tried to kidnap me then crashed their car and I escaped but they’ve stolen my passport.”
“Not a very nice way to start your visit to Wellington. I’m Rangi anyway.”
“My name is Tintin, and this is Snowy.”
“Haere mai Tintin and Snowy” replied Rangi. “Do you need a ride anywhere?”
(Just after Tintin and Snowy had landed, they had gone to the airport office and collected a letter from the Governor General’s secretary, advising Tintin that he would be collected at 5 pm and driven to the Governor General’s residence.)

“Thankyou Rangi. I’m sorry to refuse your offer, but my ride will be here shortly.”
“Okay then Tintin. You take care now. Here’s my phone number. If you want to see a bit of the real New Zealand, maybe I can show you round someday? Give us a call sometime.”
“I’d like that very much Rangi.”
“Haere ra Tintin and Snowy.”
“Bye Rangi, and thank you for your help.”
“No problem, see you” and off Rangi strode.

I wonder what that was all about and what do they want with my passport, thought Tintin? I’d better find another policeman and notify them. Then suddenly Detective John Simpson from Wellington Central Police arrived.



“Hello, hello, hello. What have we here? You look a bit worse for wear young man. What’s the problem then?”
“I had just landed and was walking out the building and a pack of thugs attacked me and tried to kidnap me. Fortunately their van crashed into your officers’ car and I escaped. But they’ve taken off with my passport.”
“Oh. I see” said Detective Smith. “You’d better come along with me then. These good-for-nothing young troublemakers cause so many problems around here.”
“But sir”, said Tintin. “Not all young men are like that. I just met a wonderful Maori man, Rangi, who helped me.”
“Well they’re few and far between I can assure you. Come along now and we’ll get you sorted. We’d better get moving before they start forging your details.”

Later at the police station.
“And where will you be staying while you’re here Tintin?” the Detective asked.
“I’m staying with Sir David Beattie and his wife. His chauffeur is collecting me at 5 pm.”
“Oh. I see! How very nice for you! And I’m King Aslan!” he said, roaring like a lion at his own joke. “Are you having an old cop on then Tintin?” The Detective put his head right up close to Tintin and called to his second in charge. “Sarge, get in here now. We’ve got a bit of a nutcase on our hands!”
“No sir. Indeed I am not. Here is my letter from Sir David’s secretary”. Tintin passed the letter to the Detective who spent a long while checking it out.
“My apologies, young man. You appear to be genuine. You can go now. I will phone you if I have any developments.”
“Thank you and good day” said Tintin, and he and Snowy headed to the passenger drop-off point outside where waiting for him was a shiny black limousine and a burly driver who introduced himself as Russell. Russell stowed the cases in the boot and Tintin and Snowy got in the back seat and they drove to the residence.



Meanwhile, the next morning, the boss of the thugs picked up The Dominion and read the front page. ‘Famous boy reporter visiting our shores as guest of the Governor General cheats kidnap attempt and escapes.’
“The little snot hopped it! Just wait till I get him” bellowed the boss.


Tintin and Snowy spent three days at the Governor General’s residence having a perfectly agreeable time.
“I’ve probably stayed long enough” muttered Tintin, and he picked up Rangi’s card and phoned him.
“Come on over now if you like Tintin”, Rangi said.
So Tintin said his goodbyes to the Governor General and his staff and he and Snowy jumped into a cab and arrived at Rangi’s house.
“Great to see you again Tintin. You’re looking much better.”
“Thank you Rangi. It’s good to see you too.”
“Come and meet my family. This is my mother and father, my brother Hone, and, looking very sulky in the corner over there, is my sister Temepara. Excuse her” said Rangi, “she’s had a rough day. She’s really into learning the Maori language and they won’t teach it to her at school. Bit of a hangover from the colonial days I think Tintin.”
“It’s very nice to meet you all” said Tintin.
“Oh yeah, Tem, that reminds me” said Hone. “I was speaking to a bloke today and he said he’d heard there was a brand new kindergarten opening for Maori kids, called Te Kohanga Reo. The staff and kids speak only Maori there! Have you heard of it?”
“No” said Temepara, her eyes widening in excitement.
“And” added Hone, “he reckoned soon there were going to me more Kura Kaupapa like Ruatoki for primary kids and even wanangas, so the kids can continue right through with their Te Reo.”
“That’s brilliant. Can I go there Mum and Dad?”
“You find out about it and we’ll look into it” was her parents’ reply.
“Why do you want to have separate schools for Maori children?” asked Tintin.
“Well, it’s because since the 1940’s Maori families have slowly moved from their rural homes into the cities and now, as a result, less than 20% of Maori know enough of the language to be considered native speakers. Many don’t even know where their Maraes are nor have any idea of our culture. So our people have taken steps to try to correct this, and that’s why we are now starting to have these places. We had our first Maori Language Week in 1975 to raise awareness, the same year as we had the Land Marches, to protest at the way our lands were taken by the Pakeha” said Hone.

Later that afternoon.
“What are some of your interests Tintin?” Asked Rangi.
“Oh, I like learning about different art and cultures” Tintin replied.
“Well, why don’t we start with a visit to the art gallery then? I can show you some of our great art works. There’s one artist whose work I’d particularly like to show you. His name is Ralph Hotere and his work is brilliant – quite avant garde I suppose you’d call it. He had a really successful exhibition a few years back in 1979 with his friend, the great Maori poet, Hone Tuwhare. The exhibition was based on Hone’s poem ‘Rain’ and Ralph’s work was called ‘Three Banners with Poem’. Hone was really involved in Maori cultural and political initiatives. Ever since that exhibition, Ralph’s work has been really popular.”
“That would be splendid” replied Tintin. “Let’s be off then.”
But just as they were preparing to leave, the phone rang.
“Is Tintin there?” the voice said.
“Yes, just a minute. Tintin – phone for you.”
“Hello, Tintin speaking.”
“If you want your passport back, you’d better go check your friend’s letterbox” then bang, the line was dead. Tintin told Rangi and they ran to the letterbox and in it was a torn piece of crumpled up paper with words that made no sense at all.
“Give me a few minutes Rangi. I’ll have to try and decipher this”…