7. The Faraway Mountains...

After catching his breath and resting a while Tumdor set off through the trees towards the mountains beyond.  He found the start of the mountain trail and began his ascent.  The trail was easy at first. It wound up the mountain side, passing through green fields and over mountain streams.  Tumdor could feel the fresh mountain air on his skin and stopped to rest at regular intervals, taking in the impressive views over the snow capped peaks.  The higher he climbed the more difficult the trail became, snaking it’s way through the mountains over the Dead Man’s Knuckles, five mountains each getting ever higher and ever more perilous.  Tumdor needed to scramble over rocks and edge his way around tight cliffs.  His feet would falter occasionally sending rocks and rubble plummeting down the sheer mountainside.  The trail became harder to follow, not many had set foot this high in the mountains before but Tumdor knew that if he could just make his was over the last peak that the going would get easier from there.  It would be down hill again and an easier pass to the trading town of Dorview and a cosy Inn.  Tumdor came to a particularly narrow ledge, his feet treading carefully along the narrow cliff edge.  The icy wind whipped around in Tumdor’s cloak and la arge bird took off from a ledge over head sending rubble showering over him and rattling down the mountainside.  Tumdor’s fingers clung to the jagged edges of the rocks.  Another gust lifted Tumdor’s hat and he instinctively released his grip from the rock to catch it.  Before he knew it he was falling.  A thud into his side as he hit a branch half way down then a searing pain in his leg and his world went black.

Tumdor awoke sore, bruised and broken but a pleasant aroma of a home cooked stew filled his nostrils.  The scent was too hard to resist.  Despite the throbbing in his head, he opened his eyes and forced his aching body to sit up.  He seemed to be in a large kitchen, in a small cage suspended from the wooden rafters that supported a thatched roof.  His cage hung above an enormous wooden worktop which was littered with huge vegetables and open jars of herbs.  In his cage he had been given a thimble of fresh water and he had been covered with an enormous sock for warmth but there was no sign of his pack or his wand.  Was this an act of kindness? Or was it to keep him fresh before he was added to the stew?  Tumdor heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming towards the door on the far side of the room and forced himself to his feet, his left leg sending pain shooting up his body.  Through the door first came a shadow shortly followed by an elderly giant, he looked up towards the cage.  His weather beaten features from a life spent in the mountains were home to his kind eyes which caught Tumdor’s eye.

‘Ah, you are awake!’  Muttered the giant, trying to keep his voice low as to not overwhelm Tumdor. ‘You were in quite the sorry state when I found you, you were lucky that I came along’.

‘Where am I?’  asked Tumdor.

‘Welcome to my home.’ replied the giant.  ‘I know it’s simple but I have lived here happily for many years.  My name is Harbrog, there used to be more of us; Fisbrog, Talsag, Blagfum.  We had a whole village here but gradually they were gone and now I am the only one left.’  The giant’s eyes turned sad as he spoke but then his face lit up suddenly ‘Will you have some stew with me?’

‘Perhaps you could explain why you have locked me up first? Replied Tumdor.

‘It was for your protection I assure you’ explained the giant.

They sat together and enjoyed a hearty stew. Tumdor told of his quest and his journey so far; The troll at Swynfort, the Kraken at Beachwyn, How he had defeated the snake in the swamplands, met Saska and closed the gateway vortex.  How he had found himself in the ancient caves and had headed into the mountains.  Harbrog told of how his village had been threatened by a ‘dark fire beast’ and his  friends had slowly abandoned the mountains and moved north to the Far Country.  The two talked as the sun went down and the smouldering fire  provided warmth from the hearth.  Tumdor’s eyes grew heavy and he began to succumb to his tiredness when a sudden shrill screech pierced the air and  the room was filled with a bright orange light and the crackle of the straw burning on the roof overhead.

‘The dark  fir beast!’ cried Harbrog who dived under the stone stairway to take cover.  Tumdor needed a spell but he still didn’t have his book or his wand. 

‘My pack!?’ he shouted between the piercing screeches.  Harbrog pointed toward a chest in the corner of the room.  Tumdor rushed over to the large chest, burning straw and glowing embers falling from above.  He forced his aching body to reach up to the lip of chest and pull himself up to peer inside.  He could see his pack, which contained his book and his wand.  He grabbed both without hesitation.  There underneath his pack was a shard of the shattered crystal, he grabbed that too and eased himself back down.  He flicked through his book for a suitable spell.  As he rifled through the pages a bundle of burning straw fell from the roof high above and set the book ablaze.  Startled, he threw the book to the floor and stamped on it to try to fight the flames.  Once the fire was out he assessed the damage and several pages had been burned. He could no longer see what the effect of several spells would be.  He tried to remember his time as an apprentice, the hours of practice and memorising the old tongue.  He had some recollection of this spell but wasn’t sure if it would have the desired effect.  He threw the ingredients together and mumbled the old words.  The air around Tumdor swirled and then amidst the shrieks and the burning fire a sudden calmness descended and the room fell silent.  The faint sound of beating wings and then the beast was outside the front door calm.  Harbrog peeked out from his hiding place. 

‘Is it over?’ he asked.

‘I have brought the beast under my spell’ explained Tumdor, ‘I must hurry as I don’t know how long it will last, and you must hurry if you wish to save what is left of your roof!’  With that Tumdor rushed towards the enormous front door getting there at the same time as Harbrog who opened it tentatively.  There in front of the house was a dragon, black scales reflected the orange light coming  from the burning roof and it’s red eyes gleamed bright against the night sky.  Tumdor rushed over to the beast and commanded it to lift him onto his back.

‘Goodbye my friend’ called Tumdor.

‘Thank you and good luck!’ cried Harbrog as the great dark fire beast flapped its large wings, took flight, and disappeared into the cold night air.

* Pictures are used for educational purposes only.

6. The Ancient Caves...

The warm air rushed across Tumdor’s face as he fell further into the vortex surrounded by swirling grey smoke and flashes of light from the darkness beyond.  He heard a sound, it started as a low rumble getting ever louder until it was almost deafening.  Just as it felt like his ear drums were going to explode with the sound he emerged from the vortex breathless and running.  He was surrounded by rock on either side of him, the rumbling was still as loud as ever. The cave tunnel behind him was collapsing sending rubble scuttling along the ground around his ankles as his legs struggled to keep ahead of the collapsing cave.

The tunnel rounded to the left slightly, he noticed strange carvings and gems embedded in the walls, ‘the markings of the first kind’ thought Tumdor.  He was almost out of breath now, and just as he felt that his legs would give up he noticed a light ahead and an opening.  The collapsing cave tunnel thundered after him, rocks that would crush him in an instant falling in the dust of his footsteps.

With the last ounce of strength left in Tumdor’s legs he leapt for the opening and dived out into an open chasm, he turned to see the cave behind him completely collapsed, boulders that it would take ten giants to move filling the space where the tunnel once was.  That was one vortex gateway closed.

Tumdor began to catch his breath and survey his new surroundings.  A huge open cave, with stalactites hanging like chandeliers from the vast cavern roof.  An underground stream trickled through the centre reflecting the colours of the jewels embedded in the walls amidst elaborate ancient carvings which must have been crafted by the first kind long before Middaland was an established kingdom.

Leading from the underground cavern were four tunnels similar to the one by which he had entered.  He studied the ancient carvings and the jewels embedded at regular intervals in the rock.  The carvings seemed to convene around a particularly dark cave on the far side of the cavern.  Tumdor made his way over to the entrance of the tunnel.  It was pitch black further down the cave but he could still make out the carvings and glints of jewels studded into the walls.  The jewels were regularly spaced now, red ruby, green emerald, blue sapphire, yellow diamond and orange amber.  These jewels would fetch a fair price in the markets of Highgold but Tumdor was not interested in wealth, he had a quest to complete after all.  
Tumdor summoned an illumination spell and his wand cast a warm light along the tunnel, the trail of gems glinting and sending speckled, coloured light around the walls.  As his footsteps echoed along the tunnel he heard the glassy clang of a jewel drop onto the rocky floor.  He cast his wand toward the sound and there on the ground was a red ruby.  ‘These gems have been here for centuries, why should they drop now?’ though Tumdor.  He collected the ruby and continued on his path.  At regular intervals along the tunnel a jewel would drop from the carvings as if tracking Tumdor’s progress and Tumdor collected them each time.   Eventually the light from Tumdor’s wand began to reflect a wall in the distance.  As Tumdor approached it, the light revealed more details.  In the centre of the wall was a door, intricately carved with a mechanical, turning device in the centre and spaces to place gemstones. Tumdor thought about the gemstones he had collected, if only he could remember the order in which they had fallen then he could place them correctly into the device.  He thought hard and remembered that the ruby fell first so he placed it into the device.  Four more stones to go.  He studied all of the stones in the palm of his hand.  The emerald was next, he was sure of it, he recalled how it had cast mystical green reflections as it fell.  The last one he collected was definitely the amber which left the diamond and the sapphire still to place.  Tumdor thought long and hard but couldn’t remember which he had picked up first.  He placed them into the device anyway, he hadn’t come this far to turn back now.

His hands shook as turned the device slowly and carefully, weary of the dangers that it may reveal.  There was a mechanical clunk and a click and the door swung open revealing a dark chamber with brick walls, carvings adorning the two walls on each side.  Tumdor

illuminated the chamber with his wand and stepped nervously into the room.  His footsteps echoed in the eerie quiet and then a sudden slam and mechanical clunk pierced the silence, the door had closed tight behind.  A mixture of fear and dread crept over Tumdor, perhaps he had placed the gems incorrectly.  Another mechanical clunk and a whirring of gears followed by the grinding of stone.  The carved walls were slowly moving in, making the room ever smaller. Tumdor needed to cast a spell and fast.  He recalled a spell he had seen in his spell book to lift heavy objects, ‘this might work to stop the walls from moving’ he thought.  He began to mix the ingredients and mumble the words in the old tongue.  The spell was cast and the slow moving walls and the grinding of the stone ceased replaced by the eerie silence once more.  The walls were now close enough to reflect the light further ahead.  Tumdor could make out the shape of a door, a mechanical clunk sounded and the door swung ajar. 

Tumdor was glad to get out of the small chamber but he knew that the danger was more than likely far from over.  He now stood in another underground chamber, larger than the last and better lit.  A single shaft of daylight from the surface shone through a circular hole in the decoratively carved ceiling directly into a stone alter in the centre of the room.  He no longer needed his illumination spell.  He could see something glinting in the light on the stone surface.  Tumdor took cautious steps towards it, close enough to reach out and touch it now, it was a shard of the lost crystal.  He reached out and took the shard,  grasping it tight in his palm.

The next thing he knew, he was falling, a trapdoor had opened and he was sliding down a chute, picking up speed.  He held the shard tight in his palm as he slid, surrounded by running water, banking right then left.  He could see daylight in the distance coming up fast and the roar of water falling into a pool.  The chute ended and Tumdor was thrown into the open air, landing with a splash in a cold pool of fresh water.  He clutched the shard as he struggled the surface and clambered onto the bank to catch his breath.  The water felt refreshing on his skin and the daylight was a welcomed relief to the darkness just moments before.  Tumdor now found himself at the foot of a snow capped mountain which rose in the distance behind the trees on the other side of the clearing.  He now knew where he was but it had been a long time since he had set foot among the Faraway Mountains.

*All pictures used for educational purposes only

5. Deerburn and The Pine Forests....

Tumdor set off towards the shimmering light in the murky distance, his legs weary with the effort of trudging through the bog.  He approached the light as the sun was just setting.  The ramshackled wooden buildings lined the edge of a swamp ground surrounded by tall pine trees.  The buildings looked mostly abandoned, broken and

deshevelled, the only sign of life was the light flickering from one of the windows of a building on the far side of the village.  Tumdor set off towards it hoping for a friendly face and place to rest.  He approached the wooden door with caution and pushed it tentatively, it squeaked on the iron hinges.  A voice sounded from across the room, an open fire flickering in the hearth, ‘who goes there?’

‘I am weary from my travels and I am looking for a place to rest’ replied Tumdor as he edged around the door looking towards the voice.  To his amazement, next to the fire stood a creature, maybe a little shorter then Tumdor but he had the head of a field mouse.

‘I am very sorry to intrude’ spoke Tumdor, trying hard not to stare.

‘That’s ok said the creature, we don’t get many visitors here any more.  I apologise for my appearance, I know it can be a little startling’ said the creature as he turned back to the fire, a deep sadness in his voice.

‘What is your name?’ asked Tumdor, ’And how did you come to be this way?’

‘I am Sascka  and I’m afraid I played with a magic that I couldn’t control’  he

explained.  ‘Ever since the shattering a great darkness has taken over the pine forest and everyone has fled Deerburn’.  ‘I have spent my life here, I have nowhere else to go so I tried to defeat the dark magic myself, but I am no sorcerer and I couldn’t control the spell’. 

‘If you let me rest here the night, I may be able to help’ offered Tumdor hoping for a restful sleep.

‘Be my guest’ said Sascka, ‘but I fear that this place, and I, are beyond help’.

When he awoke, well rested,  Tumdor could hear the birds singing the calls of spring.  Sascka busied himself stirring a crockpot that rested above the still smouldering fire.  The smell reached Tumdor’s nostrils and immediately his stomach ached for a taste. 

‘Care for some breakfast?’ asked Sascka.

‘Certainly’ replied Tumdor, ‘then we must get to work if I am to help you as I have much to do’.

Tumdor followed Sascka out of the village and into the pine forest. As they walked through the forest Tumdor noticed the leaves on the trees changing from a dark green to brown and then there were no leaves at all.  The trunks and branches changed from healthy bark to black decay.  ‘This is some dark magic indeed’ thought Tumdor to himself.

‘We are nearly there’ called Sascka.  There up ahead were two dead trees, arching over toward each other, branches intertwining over head and between the trunks below was a dark shadow and a swirling grey smoke.  ‘The Dark magic that is killing the forest is coming from there’ uttered Sascka pointing to the gateway below the menacing trees.

‘It’s a gateway vortex!’ Exclaimed Tumdor. He remembered reading about these as a young apprentice in a spell shop in Dorview many years ago. 

‘A what!?’ Asked Sascka.

Tumdor recalled how wizards of the old time would use small vortex gateways to send each other spell ingredients and letters over long distances. He also recalled how the sorcery council had banned their use after wizards had reported that ingredients and messages had gone missing. The gateways had played tricks on the minds of wizards enticing them to feed more spell ingredients into the vortexes and strengthening the dark magic which had become more difficult to control. This gateway was bigger than any he had read about.  He knew that the only way to close it was from the inside, but who knew where it would lead him to.

‘Whatever happens, do not follow me in’ said Tumdor sternly..Tumdor took a gulp and searched his spellbook for a spell that might be of use.  He gathered up some poisoned berries, a pink eagle feather and some ghost plasma.  Carefully he tiptoed towards the gateway.

He could sense the danger as he stepped over the threshold.  The wind whipped up his shawl and blinded him for just a second.  A swirling vortex of dark cloud and flashes of light circling into the abyss.  This was a gateway to the dark place and it needed to be closed and only magic could do that, but who knows where he would be once it was done.  Tumdor turned to face the gateway through which he had entred.  He could see Sascka looking back at him, worried, then running towards the gateway and shouting, dropping to his knees with despair.  Tumdor began to utter the words in the old tongue and wave his wand.

‘Sascka watched as the old sorcerer stepped closer to the dark passage beneath the bent trees. ’be careful’ he thought about saying to his new friend but he decided to stay quiet rather than state the obvious.  He watched as the wizard walked into the darkness.  Suddenly the wizard re-appeared panicking, his face riddled with fear.  He was struggling to breathe.  Sascka ran toward the gateway to help but he couldn’t bring himself to go through again, he dropped to his knees tears in his eyes.  He began to hear a groan, a creek and then he could feel movement beneath the ground.  These two trees were falling, the roots being ripped out of the ground.  The two trees toppled inwards with a mighty crack and a thud.  The gateway had been closed.  Slowly colour began to return to the darkened forest, birds sang and flowers began to blossom.  Sascka went to wipe away his tears and his hand felt his face.  He was transformed, he was human again.  ‘Thank you wizard!’ Sascka shouted, unsure if Tumdor could hear him, ‘Thank you and good luck on your quest!’

Caught in a vortex of swirling smoke and flashing light, Tumdor was unsure where he would be transported to.  The best he could do was to close his eyes and think very hard.

*All pictures are used for educational purposes only.

4. The Southern Swamplands.....

The ruined fishing boat drifted south on the tide, along the cliffs of the Southswell and up the bleed that cuts between the kingdom of Middaland to the north and Garlia to the south.   Tumdor, weary from the long journey having had little food and water, disembarked from the wave battered fishing boat.  The ground squelched as he took his first steps, who knows what dangers may lurk beneath the knee deep waters of the swamplands.  A strange mist swirled and the sun faught hard to reach through the mangroves which cast long shadows across the murky water.  ‘And where do you think you’re going?’ said the straggly bearded sailor. Tumdor glared at the sailor ‘I’m not in the habit of keeping company with kidnappers, from here you are on your own’.  The sailor began to retort but paused, remembering Tumdors demonstration of magical power on the storms of the Southswell, and he thought better of it.

The voices of the sailors faded into the distance as Tumdor trudged through the knee deep filth for what seemed like miles. The swamp sapping his energy with every step.  He began to feel his ankles tightening, was it the swamp finally getting the better of him?  Suddenly he was stuck fast, fear soared through his body and he grabbed at his ankles in the panic.  To his horror he felt the scaly, slimy, muscular body of a huge swamp snake.  It was only a matter of time before it pulled him under the surface and into the abyss. Tumdor reached for his wand and searched his pockets for the ingredients for a spell.  He found a vile of giant snot, a bag of ogre dandruff and the head of spear.  He quickly mixed the ingredients and uttered the words in the old

tongue.  The snake began to squirm and fight beneath the surface and then all of a sudden Tumdor was free, the snake nowhere to be seen.  Tired and panicked, Tumdor climbed to safety up a nearby mangrove tree.  He could at least dry off, have some food and rest a while before setting off again.  When he reached a suitable branch he could see over the swamplands, through the murk and mist and could see a light in the distance, not too far away.  What was there? a dry bed? Food? Maybe the next piece of crystal?

*All pictures are used for educational purposes only.

3. Beachwyn....

Tumdor could hear the soft sounds of waves crashing and could smell the sea salt air as he approached the steep cliff leading down to Beachwyn.  He looked over the ram shackled huts standing on stilts above the bright blue sea.  Tin rooves and wooden huts piled endlessly on top of each other as if trying to scramble away from something beneath the surface.  Fishermen and sea traders bustled around their boats, but something caught Tumdor’s eye, they seemed to be wearing armour. ‘What kind of fishermen wear armour?’ he thought to himself.  Tumdor could sense danger but before he could react he felt a dull thud on the back of his head and then darkness. 

When he awoke he could hear the panicked voices of men.  

‘I told you that sorcerer would come in handy, if we run into it out here he might be our only chance’. Tumdor stood up slowly, his head still heavy from the blow that must have knocked him out.  He thought he was unsteady on his feet at first but he soon realised that he was stood on a rocking boat. 

‘Ah, you’re awake’ said one of the sailors with a straggly beard and well used leather armour.  ‘The sea is getting rough out here, hopefully there is a storm brewing’.  ‘Hopefully? I mean,,,you want a storm?’ replied Tumdor. 

‘If it ain’t a storm, it is something much worse’ replied the sailor, ‘and a sorcerer like you could be our only chance’.  

‘Ah, that’s why you kidnapped me’ spat Tumdor but no sooner had he finished speaking, a huge tentacled arm reached from the water and splashed down into the sea next to them sending waves crashing over the side of the fishing boat.  The voices of the men became more panicked now ‘quick, do something’ said the sailor.  Tumdor rifles through his pack looking for the ingredients for a spell.  He pulled out some magic fossils, a bag of dried fairy dust and some solidified troll drool for a spell that will teleport the monster to wherever he wished.

As the boat rocked violently back and forth Tumdor struggled to cast his spell.  He uttered the words in the old tongue and waved his wand as the waves become ever bigger.  His spell was cast and he saw the huge tentacled beast disappear before he lost his footing and tumbled overboard with a yelp and a splash. 

Suddenly he is cold, gasping for air and reaching for a shiny speckled light, is that the surface? 

He awoke coughing and spluttering back on the deck of the badly damaged fishing boat.  A makeshift sail had been made from whatever could be found on board. 

‘We thought we had lost you there’ said the sailor, beard even more bedraggled although he had lost his leather armour. 

‘Where am I?’ mumbled Tumdor. 

‘Our boat was damaged in that magic battle you had with the kraken.  You were lost overboard, we dragged you out and you were clutching this…’.  The sailor held out his palm and there was the jagged green shard of crystal. ‘We are drifting down through the Southswell, no doubt we will end up at the bleed and we’ll have to take our chances in the swamplands’.  As the boat drifts along the rocky cliff shoreline of the Southswell a stunned silence took over the boat.  Sailors awe struck and stunned as they gazed over the starboard rail.  In the face of the enormous rocky cliff,  carved almost perfectly, was the huge tentacled beast. 

*All pictures are used for educational purposes only.

2. Swynfort...

After a long journey Tumdor felt glad to see the strong stone walls of Swynfort.  The town was bustling with activity as farmers trade their wares on the market.  The hare stew tasted delicious after the long journey but Tumdor couldn't help but notice the worried expression on the faces of the townspeople in the market square. As darkness fell, Tumdor looked for somewhere to stay the night. A pleasant inn with a red tile roof looked like a good place to rest. 

’You can stay here for 2 gold coins’ said the innkeeper, ’be warned though, there are dangers outside at night’.  Tumdor decided to investigate and in the night he got up, grabbed his wand and spell book and headed outside. 

The moonlit streets cast long shadows as his feet fall on the cobbles.  He heard a deep roar in the distance and felt thudding vibrate the cobbled streets.  Tumdor plucked up his courage and ventured outside of the enormous stone town walls.  Outside the walls the fields and farmlands were a scene of destruction.  Crops had been uprooted and barn buildings toppled.  The roar boomed out again.  A grotesque troll was beating against the walls of the town.  Tumdor hurriedly looked through his spell book and found a spell that would send the troll to sleep.  He delved into his bag for the

ingredients: A giant’s bogey, a unicorn tail and an ogre’s shin bone.  Tumdor began to speak the words in the old tongue and wave his wand.  The troll’s roaring grew quieter and the beating on the town walls subsided, he let out an enormous yawn before he fell to the ground and began to snore.  Tumdor, not knowing how long the magic would last,  tiptoed over to the sleeping troll. 

In his pockets he found three gold coins, the head of a spear and a shard of green crystal (the first of six shards).  He excitedly put the items into his bag and tied up the troll with some old rope before heading back into Swynfort to the inn.  Tumdor awoke to much jubilation in the town. 

‘Did you hear? The troll has been caught!’ said the innkeeper excitedly, ‘the whole town in celebrating’.  He thought for a second about joining in with the celebrations but the shard of crystal in his pocket served as a reminder of his quest.  He must set off to his next destination if he is to collect the shattered crystal pieces and return them to the Castle of Middaland. He grabbed his bag and his wand and left the strong walls of Swynfort behind.

*All pictures are used for educational purposes only.

1. Once upon a time....

Once upon a time Middaland was a quiet and peaceful place.  It’s rolling green hills, vast forests and beautiful mountain ranges were safe from harm.  That was in the old time, before ‘The Shattering’.  Dark magic began to stir resulting in the shattering of the crystal into six shards.  Each spread to the corners of the kingdom opening a portal to the dark place where evil stirs and monsters rule.  We must help our hero, a wizard by the name of Tumdor, to seek out the crystal shards and return the complete crystal to the Castle of Middaland.  Only then will the kingdom be safe once more.  Tumdor packed his map, compass and wand and set off on his quest...

….And so our adventure begins! Each week Rob's class will choose a place on the map for Tumdor to explore in search of the six shards of crystal.  They will write spells in english lessons, measure out ingredients for the spells in maths and make choices about Tumdor’s actions within the story.  Each week a chapter of the story will be written based on the student’s work and the choices they make.  You can follow our story too by following this blog!

*All pictures are used for educational purposes only.