Note/L10N/Myths_and_Legends_Weapon2/2.4.8/Books/BookMALbra?
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<br>Myths and Legends:
<br>Special Edition
<br> by Draskal Ratden
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-Foreword-
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This special edition of my Myths and Legends series focuses on a forgotten order of enigmatic knights, whom I was fortuitous enough to literally stumble upon one day. Apparently, long ago sometime in the forgotten years of the First Age, there existed an order of knights known only as the Black Legion of which there is neither recorded history or mythical stories surviving today, as if they have been purged from all memory.
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However, some time ago during my younger, more exploratory years, I came across a seemingly normal ruin. In this ruin I discovered a book, tattered and torn, which was written in an unknown language. After years of searching, I finally found someone who was able to translate the obscure text into something sensible. The following is a portion of the book detailing the Order's fall into darkness.
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- The Order of the Black Legion -
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The Black legion, a now forgotten order of knights, began their existence as bringers of peace, protecting those who could not protect themselves. Rather than impede on the duties of other benevolent orders, the Black Legion would take watch during the night, standing vigilantly in the shadows to ensure justice was kept perpetually.
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As their duties called for nocturnal operations, the Legion equipped its knights in dark, unreflective armor and gave them black horses to ride upon, so they could move swiftly and surreptitiously through the night, blending into the shadows so that they could vanquish the darkness.
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But, as with all things, they were misunderstood, their armor and clandestine activities precipitating fearsome tales of ghostly knights riding upon black beasts, apparitions bringing chaos and destruction at the darkest hours of the night.
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The Black Legion, focused more on upholding justice than their own public image, were not swayed in their endeavors and only strove even more to ensure the guilty were punished. As time passed, despite all of the good deeds the knights had accomplished, the tales of their monstrous malcontent only grew with each telling, and soon the very people the Legion protected began to fear and despise the devout order. Unable to rectify their image, the Black Legion was driven from the cities it protected, into the harsh and unforgiving wilderness.
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At about this time, a new and charismatic leader arose to take control of the Legion, which, under his watchful eye, was taken far to the east, along the Morrowind border into a sacred part of the land deep in the Valus Mountains.
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Through many years of hardship and diligent work, the Black Legion built a magnificent stronghold for themselves, which would serve as a place of sanctuary for the order; a base from which they would continue to fulfill their sworn duty as protectors of the innocent and conquerors of the unjust.
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Even with this act did the hate of the Legion grow, fueling the fervid flames of misunderstanding, breeding new tales of twisted knights riding only at night. But, even as the seed of anger slowly grew, turning more and more against them, the Black Legion remained ever true to their cause.
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Generations passed and the order again flourished, slowly becoming more secluded and less vigilant, their focus deviating from upholding justice. But it was not until the young squire Josarian joined the order, with high hopes of obtaining power and respect, was the fate of the Black Legion forever doomed.
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Eager for praise, and secretly yearning for power, Josarian soon became a strong knight, respected and feared throughout the Legion. Three times did he attempt to become the new leader of the Black Legion, and three times did he fail. Soon Josarian became bitter and desperate, his only goal to assert his power over the Legion.
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Just as he had begun to plot nefarious plans of overthrowing the rule, the leader of the order died and preparations began for the ceremony of initiation, which would ensure the strongest and most capable candidate was elected as the new leader.
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The night before his chance to take up the challenge and prove his worth by lifting the great axe, a tradition which required both strength and cunning, Josarian prayed to the gods, hoping any of them would listen and grant him the power to obtain his long sought dream.
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Desperately he called, but for hours his prayers went unanswered by all but the howling wind, which even seemed to mock him in his despair. Weary and angered from being unanswered, Josarian gave up, seeking the unconscious comfort of sleep as his last sanctuary.
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Just as the dreamworld began to take hold of his mind, a voice echoed ominously from deep within the voids of the unknown, dark and sinister it spoke, but to Josarian it could not have been more melodious or consoling.
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"Josarian, child of a faithless world, I listened to your prayers. I heard them go unanswered by your so called gods. What fools they are, to abandon a boy with such promise as you, to not give you what is rightfully yours. But I heard you, and I answer, for I believe in you, Josarian. I believe in your power, that you could accomplish great things with my help. For years uncountable have I awaited one who could serve me, who could be my emissary in the mortal world."
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Josarian, still trapped within the strange void separating reality from fantasy, could not reply to the mysterious voice. But the enigmatic god continued, as if it already knew Josarian's reply.
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"A heavy price must be paid for me to come into this world and help you Josarian. Your unanswered prayers awoke me. Should you wish, I will come, and together we will build a new world, one under our control, free of these useless so called gods that ignore their own worshipers," whispered the god, its unknown voice drifting off into the void of dreams.
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Waking the next morning in a confused fugue, Josarian put the experience behind him as a strange dream, though he hoped it truly was an unknown deity speaking to him, rather than his own deprived imagination attempting to placate his greed with delusions of grandeur.
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The initiation ceremony was just beginning as he took his seat around the great podium. Placed squarely in the center of the great room, resting in a ray of hallowed sunlight upon an alabaster dais, sat a fantastically designed axe which had been in the order since its shadowy creation. The key to becoming the next leader of the order, the axe was sacred to the Knights, an invaluable artifact which flawlessly represented the Black Legion as an everlasting symbol of justice.
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As tradition went, all knights of age would, one by one, approach the stone podium, and, gripping the handle of the mighty weapon, attempt to move it. None ventured to lift the sacred weapon from the dais, as no one had ever managed to completely lift the weapon since it was brought here by the Great Silcor, the founder of the new Black Legion.
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Knight after knight, they gripped the handle, straining with all their strength to move the great axe from its resting place. And, knight after knight, they failed. Finally, after dozens of powerful knights sat gasping for breath, it was Josarian's turn.
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Slowly approaching the great weapon, Josarian gripped the handle and heaved, concentrating every ounce of energy from his body and willing the axe to move rather than trying to do so himself. Not even the glowing balls of dust, floating serenely about the axe, illuminated by the single shaft of light descending resplendently from an opening in the ceiling, were disturbed.
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Heartbroken to once again fail, Josarian relaxed his grip, and prepared to step away. At that moment, a familiar voice once again spoke to him, its voice echoing throughout the large room, yet heard by nobody else.
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"Accept me, Josarian. Accept me as your God above all others, and I shall help you now."
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"I accept you, forever I shall see the truth," exclaimed Josarian, knowing this was his one chance to obtain true power.
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Gripping the axe's handle with new might, Josarian heaved. With a resounding crack, the weapon was lifted free from its resting place in the dais, as if it were nothing but paper in Josarian's hands. Unprepared for his newfound strength, Josarian nearly toppled backwards as the entire assembly stood in shock, amazed at what he had accomplished. There stood Josarian, holding the Great Axe of the Black Legion above his head in triumph.
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Climbing onto the podium, Josarian spoke to his fellow knights, holding his new trophy with pride.
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"Fellow Knights, long has our order been shunned by the ignorant citizens of Cyrodil! Long have they blamed us, their protectors, for their problems, labeling us monsters of the night! We protect the innocent in the name of the gods, yet where were these gods when we needed them? How many here have laid awake at night, wondering why their prayers go unanswered!?"
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An eerie silence enveloped the large room as every member of the assembly stared in shock at the blasphemous man holding their sacred weapon above his head, yet secretly searched their memories for the truth; had their prayers ever been answered? It was accepted that the gods worked in mysterious ways and did not need to communicate with a mortal to have an affect on their life, yet perhaps Josarian was right. When nobody spoke up, Josarian continued.
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"Who are these gods but liars, hiding behind the facade of their own immortality to take control over mortals? But they will have power over us no longer, for there is a new God, one who sees the truth of our order. One who sees the great deeds we have done in the past, and those we shall do in the future! He has answered my prayers, as he will answer yours! All you must do is pledge your allegiance to him, and him alone! Rid yourselves of the false shadow of the false gods, for he is the only true God!・<br><br>
Though they tried to cast of his words, each knight knew deep down that what Josarian said was true, that, if anyone was to blame for their precarious position and slow departure from their mission of keeping peace and justice, then it was the gods who they had prayed to for so long. The thought of a new God who would free them from their blind ways sounded like an escape, a pardon for their mistakes. A young knight stepped forward, speaking his concerns.
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"Josarian, how will we know this new God? What is his name?"
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Josarian faltered, for he did not know the God's name. Thinking quickly, he was about to reply when the God suddenly spoke aloud to the entire assembly.
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"My children, within each of you I see the promise of great power, of the ability to alter the future. The potential is yours, but without my guidance very few of you will ever realize it. Worship me, and I will elevate you to new heights, I will make your order renowned throughout Tamriel, respected and feared by all! Your word will become the unwritten law! If you want all this, accept my help, renounce your false gods and offer your prayers to me, demonstrate to me that you are worthy of my assistance! Only then will I completely reveal myself to you."
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And then the room was silent again, but for the howling wind outside, as if it too were trying to convince them to worship the mysterious God. Slowly, each of the knights reflected upon what had occurred, and they eventually agreed; they would do as the God asked and try to obtain his help.
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Josarian then became the new leader and acted as their guide in the order's quest to obtain the enigmatic God's favor, becoming both a leader and a preacher for the Black Legion. Over the years the order eventually lost sight of their duties to protect the innocent, instead devoting all of their time to proving their worthiness to their new deity.
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Slowly the God began to speak to them again, guiding them along their path of redemption, filling their hearts with hope, tainting their minds with desires and greed, and instilling them with distrust of the innocents and hatred of other gods.
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Without even knowing it, the knights of the order slowly became twisted into what they, for so long, had fought to rid the world of. Blinded by the smooth words of their new God, their perceptions of good and evil were reversed, and the once benevolent order plummeted into true darkness.
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Twenty years after Josarian had first claimed the sacred axe as his own, the God once again spoke to him in the seclusion of his bed chamber as he lay dreaming.<br><br>
"Josarian, the time has come for action. Your order has grown strong and powerful under your watch, and you are a truly magnificent leader for them, but you must now prove your worth, for a threat arises that could destroy all you have built! Another God, evil and deceptive in her ways, has requested a smith in a land far to the west to create for her a weapon with which she shall banish me from this realm. But in her blind hatred she has underestimated me, and I have learned her plan."
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"You must act quickly if you are to succeed, otherwise I will be vanquished and your order will fall out of memory. You must take each of your knights and head west to the Niben, then south to the city of Leyawin. From there cross into the province of Elsweyr, travel across the desert and into Valenwood, and then to the city of Silvenar. By taking this path you can arrive at the destination without alerting the watchful eye of my nemesis. Once you arrive there, I shall tell you the next step of your journey. Now go, Josarian, and make haste, for the fate of the order, and perhaps even the sanctity of the future, depends upon you!"
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Awaking from his sleep immediately after the God had spoken to him, Josarian called an emergency meeting and explained what they must do to stop this evil God from destroying their patron and their order. Without hesitation, the order of the Black Legion moved swiftly away along the path the God had laid out for them, riding their black steeds into the dark night.
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While the rest of this book details their long journey to Silvenar and the occurrences after, too many of the pages are missing or ruined to make worthwhile sense of the rest of the tale. Readers familiar with my stories may note that this seems to tie into another popular myth from another angle, yet I am unsure what this means, for this story was unknown to everyone until I stumbled upon this ancient tome.
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Perhaps the Black Legion never existed, simply a fanciful tale from an imaginative writer, a mere coincidence that it fits into another myth. But perhaps they truly are an archaic order of benevolent knights who were twisted by a manipulative God, doomed to obscurity and forgotten by the rest of the world for acts that even I cannot uncover. Wherever their secret castle is, it must contain answers to some of these questions.
訳文 †
<br>Myths and Legends:
<br>Special Edition
<br> by Draskal Ratden
<br><br>
-Foreword-
<br><br>
このMyths and Legendsシリーズ特別編にて忘れられた騎士団の不思議な騎士に焦点をあわせたのは、ある日偶然その事を思い立ったからだ。見たところ、First Ageから何年か経ったはるか昔から今日まで、騎士団の歴史や神話の記録からBlack Legionだけ抜けているのだ。まるで彼らの全ての記録がそこから追放されたかのように。
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どうしてか、若かった頃の私はさらに長期の探索をするため、見たところ何の変哲もない瓦礫を乗り越えていった。その瓦礫の中で、ぼろぼろに破かれ引き裂かれ、見知らぬ言葉で書かれた本を発見したのだ。数年かけて調べ、私はついに不鮮明な文章の意味を翻訳することが出来た。以下は、闇に落ちた騎士団について詳しく記述された本の一部である。
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- The Order of the Black Legion -
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Black Legion・・・忘れられた騎士団・・・は平和をもたらすものとして結成され、弱き者を保護していた。むしろ任務の妨げになるほど善意の義務を果たし、Black Legionによる夜間の見回りまで行われ、長い間影に隠れて用心深く正義を貫いた。
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それら任務は夜間の作戦と呼ばれ、Legionは闇の中の騎士達が一晩中迅速に動き回れるよう、後先を考えず鎧と乗馬用の黒馬を与えた。影と融合し、暗黒を打ち負かすことができるように、と。
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だが、それらの全てが誤解を生むことになった。彼らの鎧と隠密の行動は、夜の最も暗い時間に混沌と破壊をもたらす幽霊・・・黒い獣に乗った亡霊騎士の恐ろしい噂として広まったのだ。
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Black Legionは大衆の抱く印象よりも正義を維持することに集中した。彼らは努力に努力を重ね、揺らぐことなく確実に罪を罰していった。だが時間が経つほど・・・騎士達が成し遂げた全ての善行にもかかわらず・・・
奇怪な反逆者の噂は尾ひれをつけて広がっていき、やがてLegionがかつて保護した人々までもが恐れ、軽蔑するようになった。その印象は修復することが出来ず、ついにBlack Legionは護ってきた街からも追い出されてしまった。厳しく容赦ない荒野の中に。
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