The Great Lady stands,
She, Queen of the Monarchy,
The vile armies arrayed, as
Her kingdom fights with one heart
A lone elf blade and
A skint dwarf with wanderlust
Leaves of red and gold
Scattered in the silver light
I stand there with you
In a sacred grove,
of the city of Silverleaf
I sit alone in repose
Lost in the reverie
Memories of my youth
Lost to wars and strife
Brothers and sisters, all
Dvalin, Thessa, and even
The paladin, Mojo, in Celestia
A human wife, my half-kin child
And my kin, in Arvandor,
Brother, Joshian, sister, Teal,
Now with his mother and father,
All at rest
So many gone
“Bactra, it is time,” a voice rises
Rikin stands before me
Ancient, grey, and stout.
“Time is an illusion,” I say
The dwarf nods
I use my magi staff
To stand, “The others await
And hope we don’t fall.”
We are legends now.
An army gathered to stand
With the last of us,
Heroes of the Tiger
Dabuk always hated that name
Jeddar stands ready with Firewalker
They keep our legend alive
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I sing this song of a solemn, cold sword,
In the defiant hands of a damsel at dusk.
No widow is this willow near the wooded water’s edge;
Night nurtures her shadowy nature – a knave knight.
The blade bent low as not to be bright,
In the pale of the shine of the moon.
She is steeled and eager for the fight,
Her prey will meet “Winter” soon.
Running with my brothers along the path to the water’s edge. The chase is for the Rite of Passage that will grant me the right of love and war. Down along the sharp rocked shore and petrified wood, we run with and against each other. No blades, no bows. Speed and skill are our weapons, and the odd elbow. We jostle. We laugh. Then we roar, the finish in the distance. I lead the way to glory. There is a loud caw from a high treetop. The goddess is watching, the Queen of Ravens, as I cross Hardstone Bridge, first, and into Kaithmar, the homestead.
Haiku: Ver. 1
Child of the ancestors.
Haiku: Ver. 2
Run the Ravenwood,
Child of the ancestors.
Below the shadowed stars,
Two ride the road amongst green woods and flowering plumes.
The bright crescent in the sky,
It lights the pitch of the starry night.
A stout protector.
His auburn lady.
Past sundered peaks and twilit hollows,
They journey home from a Royal Affair.
There, there were wonderkins and jovial jesters.
Beautiful blue banners.
Dancers dazzling her eyes.
The road runs wooded wide and wildly wet,
In it, suddenly, stands a grey figure.
A burning torch blazes,
It lights the pitch of the unholy knight.
The Lord of Bone in steel plate,
A deadly emblem upon his chest.
Pandora’s Box in hand,
A dark gift for her.
He, her protector, blocks the path,
The Bone Lord will not yield his heart.
Old enemies feud in torrent.
As the rumbling night watches the scene,
Bone’s blade is poised in triumph.
She cries out for him…
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Jeddar to his father…
My blade in hand kneeling under moonlight.
Deep thoughts dwell on home and on family.
If you could see me now, would you be proud,
Or would that I did not come home, divide us?
You wanted me to be the dutiful son,
To wield my blade and my word only for kin,
But a bard must experience the world,
Not just the eon trees of the Silver Leaves.
Yes, for a long time, I forgot myself,
Memories lost due to a magical curse,
But you were always there in my dreams,
Beckoning my mind to heal itself.
It was her love, father, that made me know,
That you were not a nightmare, but my lord,
You had taken me in, your surrogate son.
The first blade I held hangs from your hip, still?
I write these words into my memory,
As you once taught me when I was a…
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