This text was originally a lot longer, but I decided to cut it in two for readability.
THE DEATH OF ARTHEIM, SON OF CARC
Now Artheim son of Carc ruled the lands of Kvatch from one end to the other, that is, from Gottsha in the west to the holds of the Weald that bordered on Skingrad. He had a son, named Banathil, who had a son, named Irroth the Lark. All were strong men, skilled with weapons, crowned with red gold, they were the virtues of Colovia incarnate. Now Artheim was a proud and pious king, and the state of the Empire, left in the hands of the cowardly men of Nibeth, saddened him deeply. So one day he rode out with the best of his men to contest the Inner City. He rode through the holds of Skingrad, and he rode through the depths of the marsh-forests, until he was at the banks of the great lake Ruma, and saw the eight islands, and the brightly painted walls, and the towers beyond number, and he saw the golden-white spire of the Emperors. So he said to his men, "There we will go, and bring order and justice, and all who follow me will be rewarded handsomely, they will receive eight red bulls, and a boar's weight in red gold, and a hands-length of godsblood from the Inner City's vaults." And his men cheered and followed him, and this was one of the Forty-Eight Futile Charges of the Inner City.
There on the bridge to the Inner City, which is of white stone and crosses water for fifteen hare-miles, Artheim son of Carc met with another king, this was Rein Manellis, the beggar-king of Brumath. Now Rein Manellis had sold himself in debt to the Nibeth, and he guarded their gate from the warriors of the west. And Artheim said: "Well-met, fellow king. We seek passage to the Inner City, to visit its shrines and temples, decorated with fountains and garlands of flowers, and to bathe in the waters of the lake Ruma, as is the custom in our times." And Rein Manellis believed none of this, but he feared the king of Kvatch, whose host was much greater than his own, and whose prowess with sword or bow far outpaced his own. "Well-met, son of Carc," he replied, "Sadly, you may not enter the city at this moment, for within its brightly painted walls there rages a plague, the likes of which I have never seen: each sword that is brought into the city will spring into the hand of its owner, to lash out to his companions, and all drink that is brought into the city will dry out in a day, so that all are thirsty, and each horse that enters the city will break free, and drown itself in the lake Ruma. But follow me, Artheim Hill-Born, for I camp here in a palace on the lake's edge, it has been built for me by the moths of the Nibeth, and within it are enough beds for three times your company, and enough food and wine too."
And so Artheim and his men retreated into the moth-palace of Rein Manellis, where they feasted until deep into the night. But treachery was upon Rein Manellis' heart, and during the very height of the feast he gave a secret signal to his men, so that all rose up and killed the man who sat next to him, and Rein Manellis slew Artheim who sat next to him, and in this way all the men of Kvatch were slain. Then the Nibeth men came forth with copper bowls and copper dishes, catching the blood of Artheim, for they treasure the blood of kings in their secret poisons.
When the news of Artheim's death reached Banathil son of Artheim, he mourned his death, and Irroth the Lark too mourned his death. And Irroth spoke to his father, saying: "We must rise and make great battle on the fool beggar-king, Rein Manellis." But his father said: "We cannot, for all our great warriors have been killed in battle, and Brumath of the Snow is far away, and on the path lie the kingdom of Skingrad and Chorral, both unkind to us, and besides, Rein Manellis has the protection of the treacherous Nibeth, who outnumber us a hundred to one, and know of secret poisons." But Irroth let anger grow in his heart, and his thoughts were of vengeance.
So one day Irroth heard of the son of Rein Manellis, Vythu the Far-Handed, who made pilgrimage to Sancre Tor, to ask for the guidance of the gods in matters of marriage. So Irroth dressed in black arms, and waited on Vythu Far-Handed along the road to Sancre Tor, where he killed him, and this was one of the Eight Inconclusive Pilgrimages to Sancre Tor. And when the news of Vythu's death reached the court of Rein Manellis, he was mournful, and he sent message to his mother's second cousin, Cirthes King of Chorrol, saying: "You who is kin to me, now hear of this injustice done against me: Irroth son of Banathil, lord of the Kvetchi, has slain my son Vythu Far-Handed along the road to Sancre Tor. He slew him along the road, caring not for the sanctity of his errand, nor for the borders of the kingdom of Chorral, which is marked by many tall stones with intricate carvings. Join me now in waging war on the Kvetchi, for we are both sinned against, and we will both reap a bountiful reward!"
And Cirthes of Chorral readily agreed, for he had fought the Kvetchi before, and held a deep hatred of them. So Rein Manellis and Cirthes of Chorral called upon many heroes and companions, they called upon Mathis son of Mares, Bater daughter of Udiel, Ovver son of Wechv, Uiher son of Wechv, Chwlm son of Wechv, Tehis and his dogs, numbering twenty-nine, Hachs Fox-headed, Cahar Three-Eyed, Malor Elf-Blood, Bhuttha Blood-Elf, the giants of Llur, the giants of Llor, but not the giants of Llyr, for none know of that place, Hur son of Gohr, Gohr himself, Cavar Flame-Wreath, who was bathed in the Dragonfires as a child, and whose hair was now ever a flame, so that he could not sleep on a mattress of straw nor down, but always slept on a stone, Calumn the Kothri, Schier-Je the Cat-Man, Asterion son of Morihaus, who fought the winged hordes of Ayleidoon, Pwlell son of Harsh Cucri, who once said to his wife that if his son were less strong than a stone, he would break his back, and if he was less swift than the water, he would break his back too, Chradzm the Dwarf, who never spoke, but held a box of pine wood that spoke for him, Nahar daughter of Lall, Lall herself, and lastly they called upon Hermwnthe-of-Thistles, defender of Chorral, whose hair was as thistle down, and who wreathed herself in thistles, and whose spear was tipped with a thistle thorn, the reason for which is not to be mentioned in this story. So the host of two kings set off to lay siege on the Kvatch, and so ends the story of the death of Artheim, son of Carc, who, being in the land of the dead, plays no part in the great and significant events that were to follow.