The Fate of Johanna
The Fate of Johanna is a stylized telling of the ending events of the life of Johanna, Shieldmaiden of Endor. It is a dwarvish tale that is popular in Endor, the First Mountain.
The story is a stylized account from the perspective of Johanna. However, the story includes details of events that happen after Johanna's death, and it is considered a work of historical fiction. The author of the original version is L.M.
Historical Context
In 5A 029, a group of warriors from the far Medal Island arrived in Endor, led by a man named Reinhart . During the course of their stay, and at the urging of the High King, Reinhart and Johanna battled in the Endor Tournaments, with the match coming to a draw. In early 5A 030, Johanna died shortly after giving birth to her daughter Eramine, and High King Thorik would create a great burial vault in the Mausoleum of Dwarf Lords in her honor. The Zenethian Greatsword was to be buried with her, and the High King took possession of Chedae's Tear.Content
The death of Zenthai was not an easy thing for Johanna to bear. While her beginnings were humble and she never thought of herself as a devout believer she grew to love and respect the dragon who had chosen her to aid in the great battle against Esturk and Psaro. His death was only just endurable because of the ascension of his daughter Chedae, The Goddess in Disguise. Johanna often pondered if they would have survived without her silent guidance. With the great evil quelled Johanna bid her new friends farewell and made her way back to the Dwarven kingdom in which this whole story began. It's the only place she ever felt truly at home and she prayed that they would welcome her back.
With her she carried her great Zenethian sword, which she could not name. A gift to her from The Great Dragon Himself. A gift she was grateful to have received, as well as His divine blessing, but something she was not sure she truly deserved. She was not of Dragon Blood so how important had her contribution really been? So many doubts... that she could never shake. But the gift closest to her heart was the white opal tear that fell from Chedae when she bid her friends goodbye. Johanna hid it close to her heart and on her flesh as a reminder that what had happened hadn't been some fantastic dream... and it comforted her in her darkest moments. It was a symbol of her worth... The Tear of Chedae.
After many hard weeks of travel Johanna returned to the Dwarven Kingdom where she was welcomed back to resume her duties as Swordmaiden of the King. Her responsibility was simple... to teach others their true potential in the arts of war. For a human to rank so highly in the esteem of the Dwarven hierarchy was near unheard of... but to Johanna they gave this honor. Because while she may have been plagued by doubts of her true worth... the dwarves could see it like a light shining in the dark. She was a true Dwarven subject and obeyed the King in all things. So when he asked her for the full account of the battle between The Great Dragons Esturk and Zenthai she told it with as much detail as she could. However, she was no poet or bard... and felt that her retelling of such an event was utterly lacking, but she tried nonetheless.
She let the master dwarven runesmiths examine her sword and they were awed by its beauty and by its power. It truly was a divine weapon. They cautioned her to guard it from unworthy hands... as weapons of great divine power could be misused by people unworthy of them. So after much thought... she took her concern to the King. She stressed that she was worried about what the Runesmiths had said... that should it fall into the wrong hands it might be used for ill purposes. So she begged the King to help her safeguard it when she no longer had the strength to wield it, and he agreed that he and all in his line would swear an oath to guard it, until such a time came where it might be used again in the fight against evil.
Many long nights did Johanna ponder how to safeguard her divine weapon. Ideas were discussed and plans were formulated. And in the following years that passed the dwarves realized the extent of the Blessing Zenthai had given Johanna. While the other human merchants turned grey with the years and her students of war became masters themselves, Johanna seemed to have hardly changed at all. Her sword arm was still strong and in her hair was not a strand of silver. Thus she discovered that she would live longer than any human had reason to and her heart ached with loneliness.
But even with this revelation Johanna knew she was not immortal and that someday the slowed hands of time would reach for her and she needed to be ready. To the King she went and begged that upon her death that her body, as well as the sword, were to be taken to a vault constructed for this purpose. A vault of dwarven make... unbreachable, unbreakable, incorruptible. A place to house the sword and keep it safe from those who would misuse it and where she, even in death, could safeguard it with her own hands, even if devoid of her soul.
And to the dwarven craftsman and spell casters that were to build her tomb she stressed severely that only one of her bloodline could open the vault. And only at such a time when The Heir of Zenthai needed the help of Johanna's sword once more. She implored them to use the most dangerous and powerful magical safeguards to construct her tomb. To them she gave her blood... to ensure that only one of Johanna's blood could open the door and wield the sword. But for Johanna, even this seemed not enough. To Chedae she prayed... that only one strong enough, in will as well as body, could truly wield her sword with its full power. And if one of her descendants should be unworthy of it... weak of will... weak of body... weak of soul... weak of heart... that they would be consumed by the temptation of its power and thus be destroyed, be it their mind or their body.
With plans for the safeguarding of her Greatsword in progress Johanna turned to other dwarven masters for aid. To them she brought Chedae's Tear and had them fashion a large platinum collar in the shape of a dragon and in its eye they placed Chedae's Tear. The dwarves made it to be weightless and not cumbersome and in a style that either a man or woman could wear it with pride and honor. It was truly a work of art. Each of Chedae's beautiful scales was expertly etched into the metal with great care. In the sunlight the metal shimmered so brightly it hurt the eyes of onlookers to stare at directly. But in the light of the sun the radiance of Chedae's Tear knew no equal. This Johanna wore like armor... around her neck and over her heart.
A few more years passed without the slightest hint of age on Johanna but she felt the age grow in her heart. She trained with any and all who wished to learn. With swordplay she filled her days and with dwarven drink she filled her nights. She was so lonely and this she thought she hid quite well. But the King and his counsellors saw the ache deep in her heart. They knew she had no people... no family to speak of. Her life had been longer than any normal human they had ever come across and they strived to help her cope with the loneliness with added duties and tasks.
One day, however, there came a band of warriors from a far-off human kingdom seeking shelter in the great Dwarven Halls. They were battle weary and exhausted. Each of them appeared barbaric and ruthless... and each skilled in the art of war. But none exuded this more than their leader, Reinhart. Despite his appearance he spoke with diplomacy and politely requested lodging and shelter for his men until they could risk the journey back to their Lord. This the dwarves granted them even though the men had no coin in which to repay them. So the men made themselves comfortable in the city of Dwarves... and began to ask the locals in hushed whispers about the stories of the ageless Swordmaiden the bards sang of.
Once properly recovered from battle and their travels the men were asked by the King to participate in a battle tournament, similar to the one in which The Children had first met Johanna. If they could best his greatest warrior in combat, they and their lord would not be required to repay the dwarves for their lodging. This was not an offer they felt they could refuse and so readily agreed to the terms.
The King chose Johanna as his champion and the men chose Reinhart for theirs. Everyone in the kingdom who had the freedom to come to the tournament, did. For it had been so long since the common people had witnessed Johanna's skill. She came in simple but well forged armor. Chedae's Tear still draped across her throat and in her hands her magnificent Greatsword, which still had no name.
At the word of the King the battle began and the two champions wasted no time. They fought each other ferociously, with skill and expertise. It was like a dance more than a fight. Reinhart was surprised at the strength of the blows this woman was able to deliver and he realized quickly that the songs were true. He would need to give everything he had in this battle or face embarrassment in front of his men. He did not hold back... he was fighting for his life and if he had given any less he was certain he would not survive the tournament. So their battle raged for endless minutes and Johanna grew frustrated. Normally an opponent would have been struck down by one of her blows or conceded the fight, but he persisted. It became apparent to all the spectators that Johanna might have found her equal. Neither champion could gain the upper hand and it soon became apparent that there could be no victor. They had both fought with everything they had and towards the end neither warrior had the strength to lift their swords properly. At precisely the exact moment both champions fell to their knees before the other in utter exhaustion. The King declared a stalemate.
Johanna was not humiliated by her failure to conquer this man. She did not feel shame that she did not win victory for the king. Her mind was finally quiet... free of her doubts and unburdened by her uncertainty. Both warriors simply looked at one another and saw reflections of themselves.
This tale is still told in the dwarven city... of the day Johanna met an equal on the field of battle. The only one to prove themselves worthy of her. Thus, it was Reinhart who was to become the father of Johanna's only child. The beginning of the end.
They were not naive. They knew neither one could offer any kind of true union. She would not leave the dwarven kingdom and he would not forsake his Lord. They took comfort in one another for as long as they were able but both knew that the day was fast approaching when Reinhart would have to leave and that Johanna would not follow.
This day finally arrived and Reinhart left with his men to return home. He was the last to exit the city... feet leaden and trailing behind his men. He got to the threshold and could go no further. He looked back only this once. He stared at his Swordmaiden and felt awe and pride that he had earned her respect and love. He burned the image of her stoic face into his mind, that he might never forget it. That it would forever haunt him. And it would haunt his dreams and waking moments for the rest of his life, until the day he died... for they were never to meet again in the flesh.
Johanna watched Reinhart leave without any outward emotion. And only those closest to her saw the single tear she shed when he finally exited the great dwarven hall. But Johanna was not a woman who would openly weep. So she carried on. Trained and worked day after day until it became clear to her that Reinhart had not left her with nothing. The healers confirmed what Johanna already knew in her heart. She was with child. Her heart felt empty no more.
She returned to her duties with great fervor and excitement and only ceased her work when the king himself commanded her to stop until the birth of her child. She reluctantly obeyed. And she was happy for that time. As her child grew within her she felt whole once more. But her happiness would not last. Her time came and she faced the birthing bed as so many other women have done in ages past. But this was a battle ground where Johanna's strength and skill could not help her. And ultimately it was a battle she would not win. Johanna lived only long enough to gaze lovingly upon her newborn daughter and hold her for a few fleeting moments. It was with her last breath she named her child... Eramine. Thus the line of Johanna began.
The King, bereft at the loss of Johanna, renewed his oath to her. That he and all those in his line would protect her sword and that he and his clan would guide and train her child and all those that would be born into her line until such a time when the world needed her strength once more. He would not fail her. He would care for the babe, who looked so much like her mother, like she was his own.
So, Johanna, dressed and adorned in her funeral clothes was placed in her tomb. Runes were carved into her crypt that told the story of her life and her death. Chedae's Tear was removed from her shoulders by the King himself. He would keep it until the time when Eramine might earn the right to wear it. In the Swordmaidens hands the king placed her Greatsword, which he named as she had never gotten the chance to herself.
And so the spellcasters and runemasters closed the doors of her tomb. They invoked the rituals and spells to safeguard it against trespassers. Upon the archway leading to the tomb the King had his subjects inscribe two words: Johanna's Bane.
With her she carried her great Zenethian sword, which she could not name. A gift to her from The Great Dragon Himself. A gift she was grateful to have received, as well as His divine blessing, but something she was not sure she truly deserved. She was not of Dragon Blood so how important had her contribution really been? So many doubts... that she could never shake. But the gift closest to her heart was the white opal tear that fell from Chedae when she bid her friends goodbye. Johanna hid it close to her heart and on her flesh as a reminder that what had happened hadn't been some fantastic dream... and it comforted her in her darkest moments. It was a symbol of her worth... The Tear of Chedae.
After many hard weeks of travel Johanna returned to the Dwarven Kingdom where she was welcomed back to resume her duties as Swordmaiden of the King. Her responsibility was simple... to teach others their true potential in the arts of war. For a human to rank so highly in the esteem of the Dwarven hierarchy was near unheard of... but to Johanna they gave this honor. Because while she may have been plagued by doubts of her true worth... the dwarves could see it like a light shining in the dark. She was a true Dwarven subject and obeyed the King in all things. So when he asked her for the full account of the battle between The Great Dragons Esturk and Zenthai she told it with as much detail as she could. However, she was no poet or bard... and felt that her retelling of such an event was utterly lacking, but she tried nonetheless.
She let the master dwarven runesmiths examine her sword and they were awed by its beauty and by its power. It truly was a divine weapon. They cautioned her to guard it from unworthy hands... as weapons of great divine power could be misused by people unworthy of them. So after much thought... she took her concern to the King. She stressed that she was worried about what the Runesmiths had said... that should it fall into the wrong hands it might be used for ill purposes. So she begged the King to help her safeguard it when she no longer had the strength to wield it, and he agreed that he and all in his line would swear an oath to guard it, until such a time came where it might be used again in the fight against evil.
Many long nights did Johanna ponder how to safeguard her divine weapon. Ideas were discussed and plans were formulated. And in the following years that passed the dwarves realized the extent of the Blessing Zenthai had given Johanna. While the other human merchants turned grey with the years and her students of war became masters themselves, Johanna seemed to have hardly changed at all. Her sword arm was still strong and in her hair was not a strand of silver. Thus she discovered that she would live longer than any human had reason to and her heart ached with loneliness.
But even with this revelation Johanna knew she was not immortal and that someday the slowed hands of time would reach for her and she needed to be ready. To the King she went and begged that upon her death that her body, as well as the sword, were to be taken to a vault constructed for this purpose. A vault of dwarven make... unbreachable, unbreakable, incorruptible. A place to house the sword and keep it safe from those who would misuse it and where she, even in death, could safeguard it with her own hands, even if devoid of her soul.
And to the dwarven craftsman and spell casters that were to build her tomb she stressed severely that only one of her bloodline could open the vault. And only at such a time when The Heir of Zenthai needed the help of Johanna's sword once more. She implored them to use the most dangerous and powerful magical safeguards to construct her tomb. To them she gave her blood... to ensure that only one of Johanna's blood could open the door and wield the sword. But for Johanna, even this seemed not enough. To Chedae she prayed... that only one strong enough, in will as well as body, could truly wield her sword with its full power. And if one of her descendants should be unworthy of it... weak of will... weak of body... weak of soul... weak of heart... that they would be consumed by the temptation of its power and thus be destroyed, be it their mind or their body.
With plans for the safeguarding of her Greatsword in progress Johanna turned to other dwarven masters for aid. To them she brought Chedae's Tear and had them fashion a large platinum collar in the shape of a dragon and in its eye they placed Chedae's Tear. The dwarves made it to be weightless and not cumbersome and in a style that either a man or woman could wear it with pride and honor. It was truly a work of art. Each of Chedae's beautiful scales was expertly etched into the metal with great care. In the sunlight the metal shimmered so brightly it hurt the eyes of onlookers to stare at directly. But in the light of the sun the radiance of Chedae's Tear knew no equal. This Johanna wore like armor... around her neck and over her heart.
A few more years passed without the slightest hint of age on Johanna but she felt the age grow in her heart. She trained with any and all who wished to learn. With swordplay she filled her days and with dwarven drink she filled her nights. She was so lonely and this she thought she hid quite well. But the King and his counsellors saw the ache deep in her heart. They knew she had no people... no family to speak of. Her life had been longer than any normal human they had ever come across and they strived to help her cope with the loneliness with added duties and tasks.
One day, however, there came a band of warriors from a far-off human kingdom seeking shelter in the great Dwarven Halls. They were battle weary and exhausted. Each of them appeared barbaric and ruthless... and each skilled in the art of war. But none exuded this more than their leader, Reinhart. Despite his appearance he spoke with diplomacy and politely requested lodging and shelter for his men until they could risk the journey back to their Lord. This the dwarves granted them even though the men had no coin in which to repay them. So the men made themselves comfortable in the city of Dwarves... and began to ask the locals in hushed whispers about the stories of the ageless Swordmaiden the bards sang of.
Once properly recovered from battle and their travels the men were asked by the King to participate in a battle tournament, similar to the one in which The Children had first met Johanna. If they could best his greatest warrior in combat, they and their lord would not be required to repay the dwarves for their lodging. This was not an offer they felt they could refuse and so readily agreed to the terms.
The King chose Johanna as his champion and the men chose Reinhart for theirs. Everyone in the kingdom who had the freedom to come to the tournament, did. For it had been so long since the common people had witnessed Johanna's skill. She came in simple but well forged armor. Chedae's Tear still draped across her throat and in her hands her magnificent Greatsword, which still had no name.
At the word of the King the battle began and the two champions wasted no time. They fought each other ferociously, with skill and expertise. It was like a dance more than a fight. Reinhart was surprised at the strength of the blows this woman was able to deliver and he realized quickly that the songs were true. He would need to give everything he had in this battle or face embarrassment in front of his men. He did not hold back... he was fighting for his life and if he had given any less he was certain he would not survive the tournament. So their battle raged for endless minutes and Johanna grew frustrated. Normally an opponent would have been struck down by one of her blows or conceded the fight, but he persisted. It became apparent to all the spectators that Johanna might have found her equal. Neither champion could gain the upper hand and it soon became apparent that there could be no victor. They had both fought with everything they had and towards the end neither warrior had the strength to lift their swords properly. At precisely the exact moment both champions fell to their knees before the other in utter exhaustion. The King declared a stalemate.
Johanna was not humiliated by her failure to conquer this man. She did not feel shame that she did not win victory for the king. Her mind was finally quiet... free of her doubts and unburdened by her uncertainty. Both warriors simply looked at one another and saw reflections of themselves.
This tale is still told in the dwarven city... of the day Johanna met an equal on the field of battle. The only one to prove themselves worthy of her. Thus, it was Reinhart who was to become the father of Johanna's only child. The beginning of the end.
They were not naive. They knew neither one could offer any kind of true union. She would not leave the dwarven kingdom and he would not forsake his Lord. They took comfort in one another for as long as they were able but both knew that the day was fast approaching when Reinhart would have to leave and that Johanna would not follow.
This day finally arrived and Reinhart left with his men to return home. He was the last to exit the city... feet leaden and trailing behind his men. He got to the threshold and could go no further. He looked back only this once. He stared at his Swordmaiden and felt awe and pride that he had earned her respect and love. He burned the image of her stoic face into his mind, that he might never forget it. That it would forever haunt him. And it would haunt his dreams and waking moments for the rest of his life, until the day he died... for they were never to meet again in the flesh.
Johanna watched Reinhart leave without any outward emotion. And only those closest to her saw the single tear she shed when he finally exited the great dwarven hall. But Johanna was not a woman who would openly weep. So she carried on. Trained and worked day after day until it became clear to her that Reinhart had not left her with nothing. The healers confirmed what Johanna already knew in her heart. She was with child. Her heart felt empty no more.
She returned to her duties with great fervor and excitement and only ceased her work when the king himself commanded her to stop until the birth of her child. She reluctantly obeyed. And she was happy for that time. As her child grew within her she felt whole once more. But her happiness would not last. Her time came and she faced the birthing bed as so many other women have done in ages past. But this was a battle ground where Johanna's strength and skill could not help her. And ultimately it was a battle she would not win. Johanna lived only long enough to gaze lovingly upon her newborn daughter and hold her for a few fleeting moments. It was with her last breath she named her child... Eramine. Thus the line of Johanna began.
The King, bereft at the loss of Johanna, renewed his oath to her. That he and all those in his line would protect her sword and that he and his clan would guide and train her child and all those that would be born into her line until such a time when the world needed her strength once more. He would not fail her. He would care for the babe, who looked so much like her mother, like she was his own.
So, Johanna, dressed and adorned in her funeral clothes was placed in her tomb. Runes were carved into her crypt that told the story of her life and her death. Chedae's Tear was removed from her shoulders by the King himself. He would keep it until the time when Eramine might earn the right to wear it. In the Swordmaidens hands the king placed her Greatsword, which he named as she had never gotten the chance to herself.
And so the spellcasters and runemasters closed the doors of her tomb. They invoked the rituals and spells to safeguard it against trespassers. Upon the archway leading to the tomb the King had his subjects inscribe two words: Johanna's Bane.
Type
Manuscript, Literature
Authoring Date
November 17, 2019
L.M.
Date of Setting
5A 000 -> 5A 030