The shortverse version of the story of Sagen and the Ring is found on the standing stones at Caemeron. For
generations, the young Riders learned the lore as part of their schooling, remorizing the events that began
the war that ruled their lives. It was not until the time of Anjou that the entire story was brought from the
Alabasters of the Paladium to the land of Caemlyn C'Airah in its full, long prose form, far too long for any
but the most adept sages to memorize. The shorter version also follows in the tradition of the Cameric
literature, which focuses primarily on the interesting parts of the story.
In the dark days before the doom of Gilza,
The High King held his council in the halls of his Citadel.
He was a wise man, but wielded no sword
Becase his reign had reaped peace out of the centuries.
He was a strong man, and sent two sons into the world:
The first was Paxos, with the pallor of his father
But his heritage was hateful to the people,
For his birth was brought out of base deeds.
His mild mother was not the majestic queen of Gilza,
But rather a shepherdess, rare in beauty among her people.
Paxos was a precocious youth, and he held his parent's favor
Over that of the other, who received no thanks for his deeds,
But rather had ignored honor, and restless was his course,
For his name was Sagen, and seeing that he was indeed the true heir,
He aspired to ascend the throne of his ancestors.
He had neither his father's favor nor the favor of his people,
But his heart was good and he was a wise man,
Despite the damning fact that the dreadful
Injustice of his existance insisted on following him everywhere.
It is said that the sad longing that knew no satiety --
The wish to weigh in upon the fame of his kingdom,
Was the heavy burden that hurled his fate toward the Haddàì.
Opposition to the king outside their circles was not open then,
And the Haddàì were heard of in the land as hallowed sages,
Who knew the secrets of nature and needed a powerful man
To further their fruitful cause. The Haddàì found a great ally
In the youngest son of the High King, and decided to teach him.
Sagen was suspicious of them at first, so dark and secret their arts seemed,
But as time passed onward and he pursued their arts with vigor
He gained strength and grew strong, but he remained grieved,
For he was still unseated by his opponent, his undefeated brother
In a tournament to test the valour of the men in town.
Everyone hailed Paxos as the prince, and proclaimed him to be the next king,
Although they all knew that his past was entirely scandalous.
Anger heated the fires of Sagen's soul, and he swore to gain the crown himself.
The Haddàì were not long in hearing the boast, and they heralded it
As their moment of triumph, and brought the opportunity before their Master,
A great prince of darkness, whose powers were not yet unleashed.
Shetan, the shadow of fear that lurked in the southern corners of the mountains.
He was full of hate for all who walked the earth,
But the Lieges, who still roamed the land, had stripped him of his power and laden
Him with a dark burden that he could not release without another power.
He had heard tell of a prize in the southwest, across the harrowing deserts --
A ring that sat in a river of gold, radiating the power that he needed.
It was untouchable except by an unspoiled youth, who had never killed in war,
For such perfection was sacred to the forces that had sealed the ring.
Shetan desired the ring and demanded the Haddàì require Sagen to acquire it.
The Haddàì immediately had Sagen called to them, and he
Was given the quest for the golden ring. He gleaned from their short explanation
That the ring held a hallowed power that would put both himself and the Haddàì
Upon the throne of power that would throw his brother out of sight.
His soul was stained with the lust for the sun to rise
On his own unbridled ambition, although it was at it should have been
That his hands were unstained by blood drawn in hatred.
He journeyed alone to the west, but while he was on his way
He fell into meeting with a young farmer's son, Falin by name,
And, having donned a clever disguise, the boy was deceived
And did not know that the man he walked next to
Was the prince of the palace. They proceeded on through the desert,
Barely ceasing because of the dangerous barbarians that prowled nearby.
Their journey was blessed, and great was their joy
When they found the fabled river, and Falin stepped in.
He reached for the ring, gold running about him in torrents,
But as his fingers found the edges of the fine circle,
A sudden torrent splashed over him and he was whirled downstream.
He found himself on the bank, a funnel of fire encircling him
And keeping him from catching up the prize.
Sagen was able to see what had stopped his friend from getting the ring --
Falin's hands had been soiled when he felled one of his countrymen
In defense of his small, dirty home. He despaired that the error
Would also keep him from acquiring it, but as soon as he stepped into
The stream the whirlwind flew back into the earth, and Sagen
Reached into the water and withdrew the wondrous prize,
Sliding it onto his finger. And Falin looked for his friend,
Being newly released from the bondage of the black flames,
But saw his shape not. It seemed as though he was gone.
Sagen was still there, however, stunned to see that he was unseen.
He told his friend nothing of what he had discovered,
But the two of them journeyed back towards the Citadel.
First, however, Falin wished his friend to see where he lived --
A dirty, miserable, dank little hamlet, drawn into existance
As a slave force that the King could steal away from their homes.
Sagen's heart burned with hatred at the sights he saw there,
And realized with rancor what his father had really done --
Building great beauties on the backs of slaves.
This was one offense too many for the only true heir,
And he revealed his identity, raising up for himself
An army of men out of the village, armed and ready to resist
The High King. Paxos, never parted from his father in thought,
Saw fit to prove himself to his people by pressing down
The rebellion in the hamlet, not realizing that his brother
Was at the head of it. War whirled down upon the land
In the shape of seemingly endless masses of soldiers
From the Citadel, ceasing not in their endless lines.
Sagen thought some about his ring, and the power
That its gold could give him, great enough to triumph.
All thoughts of the Haddàì were hurled from his mind
And he set about to stem the tide of injustice in the land.
His forces were farmers, and few of them had wielded true weapons.
Although their fighting spirit was strong, still they were pushed back.
Those that could not retreat were taken, and then came reports
That the prisoners were put to torture at the hand of Paxos.
The cruelty to the captives shown by the king infuriated Sagen,
And he promised his people to kill Paxos.
Long and hard he tried to lay his brother low
With sword and shield, with spear and lance.
He had sworn to himself never to use the ring,
For although he aspired to join the Haddàì, he also realized
That the power of the ring perhaps portended more than he wanted.
Their shadows looked even darker to him in the light of the simple life,
And he knew that the nature of the knowledge they posessed
Would not do him any good -- neither any for his companions.
But as more and more farmers fell mained before the swords of the soldiers,
He reasoned that it was rational to raise the power he owned
To prevent more from dying, justifying its use even though
He realized that it was wrong to extend the ring
And succum to the sweetness of its sacred power
And enslave himself eternally, for if ever he used it
To betray Paxos and build a kingdom of his own, it was unwise
To rest such a royal foundation on one simple reason.
He would be worshiped only for posessing the wonder,
And would win all his wars by means of trickery.
And if ever it was stolen, immediately he would be powerless
And meet a terrible end at the hands of the marauders who took it.
But as battles wore on and more warriors fell, brighter the ring looked
And the temptation to try his hand at taking justice into his own ring
Grew ever great, and the glory of the deed tempted him as well.
Sagen aspired ever more to accomplish the deed, and chose to use
In the power of the ring, putting it on one day in the heat of battle
And sliding behind his enemy's lines. He thought to kill his brother,
As his hand raised the dagger, the Haddàì called out to their spirit
To reveal to them the one who had taken the ring without giving it to them.
Sagen's hand slid true to its stopping point,
The heart of hardness within him exploding.
His hands were no longer pure, and the power of the ring
Would not stand up under the corruption of the men that had held it.
None had ever owned it but that it led them to blood,
And Sagen was not the first to fall. But freedom of choice
Had led him to lever the terrible deed, and lest the ring be stained with blood,
Its power overcame him, and although Paxos fell that day,
Sagen's soul ascended to the heavens as well, for such was the power of the ring
That all who attempted to desecrate it were not allowed to live longer.
The ring fell to the ground, but was found by the Haddàì,
Who, like vultures, had viewed the proceedings from afar.
They lifted the ring, which, although it destroyed its master,
Did not escape the dripping blood, and its goodness was destroyed.
Their took it to their leader, that terror of darkness,
And he wore it, wasting its power on wanton evil,
Destroying the kingdom and devastating the land. To this day
He still wears it, with all its power. Warriors have come and gone
But none has ever wrested it from his power.
Sagen certainly did not mean to loose the insatiable evil,
But he succumbed to the Power of the Past,
And thus has brought on the kingdom destruction for years to come.
We, the remaining warriors, blessed with strength and wisdom,
Must rally to remove the red shadow from our land.
generations, the young Riders learned the lore as part of their schooling, remorizing the events that began
the war that ruled their lives. It was not until the time of Anjou that the entire story was brought from the
Alabasters of the Paladium to the land of Caemlyn C'Airah in its full, long prose form, far too long for any
but the most adept sages to memorize. The shorter version also follows in the tradition of the Cameric
literature, which focuses primarily on the interesting parts of the story.
In the dark days before the doom of Gilza,
The High King held his council in the halls of his Citadel.
He was a wise man, but wielded no sword
Becase his reign had reaped peace out of the centuries.
He was a strong man, and sent two sons into the world:
The first was Paxos, with the pallor of his father
But his heritage was hateful to the people,
For his birth was brought out of base deeds.
His mild mother was not the majestic queen of Gilza,
But rather a shepherdess, rare in beauty among her people.
Paxos was a precocious youth, and he held his parent's favor
Over that of the other, who received no thanks for his deeds,
But rather had ignored honor, and restless was his course,
For his name was Sagen, and seeing that he was indeed the true heir,
He aspired to ascend the throne of his ancestors.
He had neither his father's favor nor the favor of his people,
But his heart was good and he was a wise man,
Despite the damning fact that the dreadful
Injustice of his existance insisted on following him everywhere.
It is said that the sad longing that knew no satiety --
The wish to weigh in upon the fame of his kingdom,
Was the heavy burden that hurled his fate toward the Haddàì.
Opposition to the king outside their circles was not open then,
And the Haddàì were heard of in the land as hallowed sages,
Who knew the secrets of nature and needed a powerful man
To further their fruitful cause. The Haddàì found a great ally
In the youngest son of the High King, and decided to teach him.
Sagen was suspicious of them at first, so dark and secret their arts seemed,
But as time passed onward and he pursued their arts with vigor
He gained strength and grew strong, but he remained grieved,
For he was still unseated by his opponent, his undefeated brother
In a tournament to test the valour of the men in town.
Everyone hailed Paxos as the prince, and proclaimed him to be the next king,
Although they all knew that his past was entirely scandalous.
Anger heated the fires of Sagen's soul, and he swore to gain the crown himself.
The Haddàì were not long in hearing the boast, and they heralded it
As their moment of triumph, and brought the opportunity before their Master,
A great prince of darkness, whose powers were not yet unleashed.
Shetan, the shadow of fear that lurked in the southern corners of the mountains.
He was full of hate for all who walked the earth,
But the Lieges, who still roamed the land, had stripped him of his power and laden
Him with a dark burden that he could not release without another power.
He had heard tell of a prize in the southwest, across the harrowing deserts --
A ring that sat in a river of gold, radiating the power that he needed.
It was untouchable except by an unspoiled youth, who had never killed in war,
For such perfection was sacred to the forces that had sealed the ring.
Shetan desired the ring and demanded the Haddàì require Sagen to acquire it.
The Haddàì immediately had Sagen called to them, and he
Was given the quest for the golden ring. He gleaned from their short explanation
That the ring held a hallowed power that would put both himself and the Haddàì
Upon the throne of power that would throw his brother out of sight.
His soul was stained with the lust for the sun to rise
On his own unbridled ambition, although it was at it should have been
That his hands were unstained by blood drawn in hatred.
He journeyed alone to the west, but while he was on his way
He fell into meeting with a young farmer's son, Falin by name,
And, having donned a clever disguise, the boy was deceived
And did not know that the man he walked next to
Was the prince of the palace. They proceeded on through the desert,
Barely ceasing because of the dangerous barbarians that prowled nearby.
Their journey was blessed, and great was their joy
When they found the fabled river, and Falin stepped in.
He reached for the ring, gold running about him in torrents,
But as his fingers found the edges of the fine circle,
A sudden torrent splashed over him and he was whirled downstream.
He found himself on the bank, a funnel of fire encircling him
And keeping him from catching up the prize.
Sagen was able to see what had stopped his friend from getting the ring --
Falin's hands had been soiled when he felled one of his countrymen
In defense of his small, dirty home. He despaired that the error
Would also keep him from acquiring it, but as soon as he stepped into
The stream the whirlwind flew back into the earth, and Sagen
Reached into the water and withdrew the wondrous prize,
Sliding it onto his finger. And Falin looked for his friend,
Being newly released from the bondage of the black flames,
But saw his shape not. It seemed as though he was gone.
Sagen was still there, however, stunned to see that he was unseen.
He told his friend nothing of what he had discovered,
But the two of them journeyed back towards the Citadel.
First, however, Falin wished his friend to see where he lived --
A dirty, miserable, dank little hamlet, drawn into existance
As a slave force that the King could steal away from their homes.
Sagen's heart burned with hatred at the sights he saw there,
And realized with rancor what his father had really done --
Building great beauties on the backs of slaves.
This was one offense too many for the only true heir,
And he revealed his identity, raising up for himself
An army of men out of the village, armed and ready to resist
The High King. Paxos, never parted from his father in thought,
Saw fit to prove himself to his people by pressing down
The rebellion in the hamlet, not realizing that his brother
Was at the head of it. War whirled down upon the land
In the shape of seemingly endless masses of soldiers
From the Citadel, ceasing not in their endless lines.
Sagen thought some about his ring, and the power
That its gold could give him, great enough to triumph.
All thoughts of the Haddàì were hurled from his mind
And he set about to stem the tide of injustice in the land.
His forces were farmers, and few of them had wielded true weapons.
Although their fighting spirit was strong, still they were pushed back.
Those that could not retreat were taken, and then came reports
That the prisoners were put to torture at the hand of Paxos.
The cruelty to the captives shown by the king infuriated Sagen,
And he promised his people to kill Paxos.
Long and hard he tried to lay his brother low
With sword and shield, with spear and lance.
He had sworn to himself never to use the ring,
For although he aspired to join the Haddàì, he also realized
That the power of the ring perhaps portended more than he wanted.
Their shadows looked even darker to him in the light of the simple life,
And he knew that the nature of the knowledge they posessed
Would not do him any good -- neither any for his companions.
But as more and more farmers fell mained before the swords of the soldiers,
He reasoned that it was rational to raise the power he owned
To prevent more from dying, justifying its use even though
He realized that it was wrong to extend the ring
And succum to the sweetness of its sacred power
And enslave himself eternally, for if ever he used it
To betray Paxos and build a kingdom of his own, it was unwise
To rest such a royal foundation on one simple reason.
He would be worshiped only for posessing the wonder,
And would win all his wars by means of trickery.
And if ever it was stolen, immediately he would be powerless
And meet a terrible end at the hands of the marauders who took it.
But as battles wore on and more warriors fell, brighter the ring looked
And the temptation to try his hand at taking justice into his own ring
Grew ever great, and the glory of the deed tempted him as well.
Sagen aspired ever more to accomplish the deed, and chose to use
In the power of the ring, putting it on one day in the heat of battle
And sliding behind his enemy's lines. He thought to kill his brother,
As his hand raised the dagger, the Haddàì called out to their spirit
To reveal to them the one who had taken the ring without giving it to them.
Sagen's hand slid true to its stopping point,
The heart of hardness within him exploding.
His hands were no longer pure, and the power of the ring
Would not stand up under the corruption of the men that had held it.
None had ever owned it but that it led them to blood,
And Sagen was not the first to fall. But freedom of choice
Had led him to lever the terrible deed, and lest the ring be stained with blood,
Its power overcame him, and although Paxos fell that day,
Sagen's soul ascended to the heavens as well, for such was the power of the ring
That all who attempted to desecrate it were not allowed to live longer.
The ring fell to the ground, but was found by the Haddàì,
Who, like vultures, had viewed the proceedings from afar.
They lifted the ring, which, although it destroyed its master,
Did not escape the dripping blood, and its goodness was destroyed.
Their took it to their leader, that terror of darkness,
And he wore it, wasting its power on wanton evil,
Destroying the kingdom and devastating the land. To this day
He still wears it, with all its power. Warriors have come and gone
But none has ever wrested it from his power.
Sagen certainly did not mean to loose the insatiable evil,
But he succumbed to the Power of the Past,
And thus has brought on the kingdom destruction for years to come.
We, the remaining warriors, blessed with strength and wisdom,
Must rally to remove the red shadow from our land.
