Extracts regarding the Treasures of the Dream of Albion

I have made it my life’s worth to find out all I can about the old ways, stories handed down by parents to children’s, tales told in inns, round fires at Beltane I know some scoff at my work, and tell me that scribing information will never take the place of the way of the bard, some even call me evil for trapping things that should be free. But such precious knowledge should never be lost, and I have always felt that bards can not be trusted for rather scribing the truth as it is seen, they embellish, twist, till what flow from their mouths has so little in common with the truth, and man who was at the event would not know from what tale he was hearing the tale from the bard.

Remember the truth, that is the thing that holds, the thing that will always stand the test of time, nor the fact that Carmichael accuses Issa of being in league with Demons, just because Issa has a better horse than himself.

I will write these volumes as I hear them, this will be the nearest to the truth I can get to the old legends.

Cumhal ap Luned
I spoke with an old Druid he was from the borderlands, and knew tales from the peoples of both side of the mountains. I asked him of the old way, he chuckled and spoke about hallows. When I ask him what are hallows, are they soldiers? Gods? Places? He went sullen, looked me in the yes and I felt my spirit go cold and he intone in an ancient voice.

“The 13 Treasures of the Lands, the items of Powers that brought together will make the land tremble, rivers dry, and the sky weep, learn well for this is you and everyone.

The sword of Rhydderch Hael; if any man draws it except himself, it burst into flame from the cross to the point, and all who asked it received it; but because of this property all shunned it. And therefore was called Rhydderch Hael.

The basket of Gwyddno Garamhir; if food for one man were put into it, when opened it would be found to contain food for one hundred.

The horn of Bran Galed; what liquor so ever was desired was found therein.

The chariot of Morgan Mwynuawr; whoever sat in it would be immediately where so ever he wished.

The halter of Clydon Eiddyn, which was a staple below the feet of his bed; and whatever horse he wished for in it, he would find it there.

The knife of Uawfrodded Farchawg; which would serve four and twenty men at meat all at once.

The cauldron of Tyrnog; if meat were put in it to boiled for a coward it
would never be boiled, but if meat were put in it for a brave man it would be boiled forthwith.

The whetstone of Tudwal Tudelud; if the sword of a brave man were sharpened thereon, and any one were wounded therewith, he would be sure to die, but if it were that of a coward that was sharpened on it, he would be none the worse.

The garment of Padarn Beisrudd; if a man of gentle birth put it on, it suited him well, but if a churl it would not fit him.

The pan and the platter of Rhegynydd Vsgolhaig; whatever food was required it was found therein.

The chessboard of Gwenddolen; when the men were placed upon it, they would play of themselves. The chessboard was gold, and the men of silver.

The mantle of the land; whosever was beneath it could see everything, while no one could see him.”

After this the druid rambled on and spoke in tongues I could not understand.

You may think me mad, but sometimes the forests its self can tell you things, tree, rocks and all those who dwell in the forest have such a wealth of knowledge, a little madness is a small price to pay. I will nor speak of who I was told these things, for I may be thought of as a bard, decorating a tale with fanciful creatures.

The treasures were created by the Ancients, mystic priests who preceded even the Druids, as a direct means of communicating with the gods. For centuries the Druids guarded the treasures which were dispersed throughout Britain for safekeeping. The druids led in later years by a wizard of great power sought to rediscover the lost lore that would release the full power of the treasures and return the ancient gods to earth.

Word came to a fort (at what is now York) of a fabled treasure held by a mysterious sect of warrior priests two days march to the North West. Other reports had always proved false but the fort commander was concerned that the treasure whether real or not would become a focal point for rebellion. He dispatched a legion to dissipate the priests and capture the treasure. Word of the legion’s advance reached the priests who had vowed to defend the treasure to the last. They were aware however of being no match for the disciplined force of a full legion of battle hardened veterans, a most powerful fighting force. Amongst the priests however was an old druid of great learning who had long studied the lore of Ancients.
As the legion approached, he summoned an awesome force. The legion in dismay could only watch transfixed as the earth shook and the very time fabric was ripped asunder.
The warrior priests watched as the legion were engulfed. Lost to reality their very existence negated. Doomed to be forever trapped within the timeless Power.