Lo! For on that same cosmic night
Flew three figures in stealthy flight
As the Deutran camp, primitive
Had weak walls, they diminutive
Furthermore, those awake were laxed
As focus drew on bodies waxed
Nine hundred corpses to share spoils
Caused ever certain grievous toils
They knew not of the recent news
Which was heard by whispering fews
And the captain of the night’s watch
Whose duty he was eager botch’d
Here too engaged in this foul sport
Thus abandoned the makeshift fort
Ordes, the captain’s name, from Dralt
Made cause to earn honor exalt
For ‘twas one special treasure gleamed
That Ordes wish to have and dreamed:
The steel cuirass of Bennar’s son
Stayed when prince savage he undone.
Thus when figures three soon crept past
The captain’s gate, none would stand fast
To hold them, and the camp entered
Fiends, whose direction was centered
Toward the shore, where they knew would
House kings and princes, who they could
Slaughter in their sleep, and thus make
Terrible wounds by Parrdon’s Rake.
Who these foes were is all simple
The first be known by his pimple:
Prince Straen’s youngest brother, Embar
Still yet to see his final star
He had not been present before
King Kollys forbid him from shore
Even now he should have been gone
But he snuck as graceful as swan,
Then there was another savage
Son of Khobar, wont to ravage
The Deutrans that destroyed his kin
That divided their forces thin,
And last, of course, slayer Prince Straen,
The warnings given he takes vain,
Who felled King Cone in the morning
With his sons two both scorning,
One of the best among traitors
In fighting, ‘course not in caters.
Unfortunate that they stumbled
On Isich from Rhilles, so humbled
Was he, last lived of brothers three
After the others drowned in spree
Dragged by savage claws into depths
Isich then matched their fates in death
As Straen was the one to strike him
And all light in his eyes went dim
Ne’er would his bride to be see ‘gain
Humble Isich lest she died then
To return his embrace from ‘bove
To finish their denied long love.
The intruders held no remorse
Save Gare’s youngest king’s son in course
Of his youthful age, not one known
In the strains of war, this of Cone
The savage took trinkets; he claimed
From Isich’s brace which the prince maimed
What he grabbed was a necklace gold
To place on scalic neck and hold
And there to boast of fallen grace
They then hid the body in pace,
Next following on the camp’s path,
Though soon would find their blood in bath.
For now, on the corner nearing
Tents by which needed no clearing,
(Guards that should have there been present
Had left to game for gifts pleasant),
Until last the wavy sands spied
To sneak unseen intruders tried
As fate would awfully have it
Opened Dralt’s Kingly tent by slit,
Here the old man was sleeping well
For the nightmare retired to hell.
Great Glorana Above, would you
Now watch him Sinder die, of true?
Gracious Goddess, how honor's act!
You dove to save Sinder by pact;
As the intruders three entered
By cot positioned they centered,
Young Prince Embar asked in quiver:
“Must he be the man we shiver?
Even tales long away from Gare
Tell of his gray wisdom, none bar
Is it not in ill favor this,
Send a sleeping sage to Abyss?
By doing this wretched murder
What else could be most to spur Her
Into vengeful action on us,
For our law’s honor broken thus.
Think of the punishments past great!
Parrdon's flayed skin for his crossed hate,
Now He confined to rake the damned,
And his brothers nameless left crammed
Under her merciful steps judge
Waiting for who next will Her budge.
Were these traitors not numbered three?
And here we stand the same degree
Before the man most like Her hows,
Who are us but jealous, dumb cows?
Therefore I give my concerned cause,
May we find diff’rent for blades ours.”
The youth spoke in stirring earnest,
Yet the four ears had not earned this;
They scoffed, Straen and savage, in wroth,
And the savage unwrapped the King’s cloth,
Revealing him in weakest form
Though not fated death in this dorm,
For least one’s ears heeded the youth,
His soul not like them, not uncouth
Armor clad and broadsword unsheathed
He burst in, a crown of herbs wreathed
On his head that marked him a king
Thus made ready bout and we sing
‘Twas he, ruler of Ephides
That on the shores made buckled knees
His deeds in strength second to one:
Trichallion, when all is done,
Yet King Damotaon sufficed
To fend foes that otherwise sliced
Cone’s gray, wise cousin in his sleep
Pouring malice waters down deep.
‘Fore engaging, he made challenge:
“Halt, intruders, take no mal inch!
I’ve marked this to be charged evil
And requiring just reprieval,
Therefore commit no foul action
As you’ll face me now in traction.
Rest has been scarce my friend of late
Thus have I wandered not to wait
For I knew something be awry
On nights with gracious vict’ry cry.
I spied not the captain, Ordes
Making his round’s securities,
And from here I did know ‘tis I
That must carry on virgin try
As common men like that Ordes
Lack discipline despite our pleas.
Luck has it been then to stumble
Before King Sinder’s death rumble;
I warn you, savage and traitors,
‘Tis no one Parrdon’s Rake caters,
Therefore ready, as one side dies
Since fate will have it in the skies.”
When finished, Damotaon pounced,
On intruders, bended in ounce
Still, the wise sage never did rouse
For sleep stole him away to house
In the palace of Her Above
To see again a cousin’s love
For he dreamt of the flamed King Cone
Who hugged him as if brothers own,
And further in this dream dragged him
The rising eyes’ light fading dim;
Here they talked of matters of all
Import, for ne’er gain would She call
As She Above would have fated
Sinder’s soul to be awaited
Forever, as wisdom’s cost dear
Demanded a return severe,
Thus it be more tragic to die
Since then nowhere would his soul lie
Making Damotaon’s defense
All the more crucial, so then hence
He fought with fury first and last
Hoping the fatal blow to cast
On the intruders three, bar one:
The youth that warned, a foe’s fair son.
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The savage his blows deflected
Yet he failed to stand protected
Causing Prince Straen to make his mark
Though Damotaon swing in arc,
Sending the two in cautious step,
Who fled outside for room to rep.
The ruler of Ephides chased
With next attack’s might solely cased
On King Cone’s slayer, that coward
Who, no better than a cowherd,
Missed the dodge and fell howling loud
Attention soon to draw a crowd
But the savage in part with pike
Saw his chance to now and then strike
As Damotaon left open
His guard to fie and let mope in,
Then the blood came spurting out wound
And his hurt body turned and swooned,
Yet still the king stood in brave stand
And to those arrived lifted hand:
“Deutrans and countrymen, lend aid
For our foes have launched secret raid
They came here to slay most in rank
In hopes to have us duly shrank
Yet before they could accomplish
The task malign, I abolished
Their dreadful sly preparation
And fought with warning indignation
Though alas, I am now battered.
Fine, for halting them first mattered,
And thus I ask of you now here
To defend your noble kings dear
As my limbs go numb, I’ll die soon
Send these bastards to exiled moon,
Though not the youth I mark Embar,
‘Twas he that led me on by star
For his voice did ask of concern
Toward murder in cold to burn,
Therefore spare him but the others
Fight and protect steadfast brothers!”
Here he spoke and here he then died
Falling to the ground on his side,
And with this death he left behind
Two sons and a wife to remind
Of his sacrifice, and pity:
Ne’er will he ‘gain see his city,
Nor his wife’s loving voice to soothe
His tragic thoughts to outside move.
Fie on that, now that Straen has spit
On his corpse, Deutrans ward to wit
Proud in number, they rushed resolved
A circle of eight efforts involved
Though how a cause ‘twas so foolish
After night’s drinks and games droolish
Crudor son of Tyg harried first
Though the response he took was worse:
The savage split his spear in two
And stabbed the next Draltan in cue
(Him being Thelmius the strong,
Nonetheless impaled on throng)
But Crudor stepped back with great haste
As Daucan made thrust in his waste
For the savage leapt above head
And struck rash Daucan with pike dead
Crudor now was on the floor tired;
He stood up to then be retired
To gain the help of heroes more
He hoped to marshall great in corps
And find a weapon new to chase
The intruders while they made hard case
Thus Crudor left comrades by five
As foes three danced with all their lives.
First to fall damned: Cynus the dunce
Whose big heart made up for brains blunt
Prince Straen struck him relentlessly,
Wound by wound ensuring death’s sea
‘Twas he that named Cone’s children dear
Loving other as siblings near
How fickle ‘tis now that he dies
The cold light entering his eyes,
For had he lived this night bleary
Ne’er would his times be blight weary
Since age had crept upon him fast
And this would be his day’s fight last,
But ‘twas Damotaon answered
He followed through and thus transferred
His dying kind soul to Glorana
Rejoining dead friends in mana
Least those happy thoughts transpired quick
As cruel death would have Cynus lick
His blood and choke on it softly
Before embracing ends costly.
Straen cared not the sadness, he dove
At the next foe hoping to shove
Him to deathly abyss likewise,
But Lord Storm wouldn’t have his lies
As when Prince Straen feigned a blow dashed
Lord Storm moved and with his shield bashed
The traitor prince, who collapsed still
Alive yet disturbed by the thrill.
Next, Storm led his remaining three:
Hordamas, Gordus, and Edry
With caution circling in tandem,
Five friends already abandoned
By now they were four against two
Though in truth against one, for who
Else but savage would they attack
After the parted King’s dying crack
In rousal for young Prince Embar
As he lifted his stung helm bar
To see the carnage of combat
Though ‘twould not be, for quick on that
Prince Embar was a Draltan new
Joining the defense in false cue
For ‘twas he: the captain Ordes
Newly rallied by Crudor’s pleas
Fresh from the drink and void in mind
He harried with spear so unkind
Heard not he did Damotaon,
Else not this rush had he stayed on
Charging the youth and drawing blood
Leaking red onto sand in flood.
Embar yet lived, the wound minor
Though fear stood him for designer
As the tree cannot flee axe
Embar remained form to relax
And not to dodge the next foul blow,
That which by luck struck him too low
And missed, giving crucial response time
Yet ‘twas wasted on the youth’s dime
For he stood in shock, hand on wound
Until Lord Storm’s haut voice him tuned:
“Ho! Mark this, king’s son, traitor-spawn!
Must you sit and die by spear yon?
Look at the creature before you,
And strike before he runs you through,
He won’t listen and he won’t spare
Your life has he not one stone care!
If he doesn’t see your youth and
Pitied stance, he won’t into sand
Drop his weapon to make amends,
Rather he’ll gut your journey’s ends.
I give you this kindness as did
Goddess Glorana to hope’s bid,
That being Parrdon’s third brother,
Him of soul pure unlike other
Kin he did have, that betrayed Her,
Those that She wrought and dismayed were
Cast into the fires burning hot
Parrdon himself by Her light’s shot,
The unnamed traitors by hope’s bid,
Him too unnamed, for he was rid
Of his life during the struggle,
(Not in vain, as above smuggled
His body by Glorana’s thanks,
For his service to Her brave ranks).
Thus I implore you, Prince Embar!
Make haste and send your dread foe far
From this world and into his death,
Lest he make you draw final breath.
King Damotaon vouched your soul,
And I hope to see you, youth in whole,
But first you must fight and resist
The captain’s blows thrust from his wrist;
Fight like hope’s bid for your dear life,
Else you’ll end up in full fear’d strife,
Loath I am to witness tragic
If it be Parrdon’s drunk magic
That has you slain by this captain,
And fallen as the spear’s tapped in
Through your chest to send you dying,
Thus you must fight or end up flying!”
Here he bravely warned his poised foe
As came next Ordes’ balanced blow.
Lord Storm witnessed not the result
For his words were not quick as bolt;
In the time his speech was made fast,
The savage prince leapt the line past
And struck noble Hordamas bold,
Though Lord Storm’s safety he did hold
In defense long lasting for Embar
To hear and make choice by Her star.
When Hordamas fell so rushed they,
(Being Gordus and Edry gay
In their hacking the savage dead,
Blow by blow in their attacks led,
For Hordamas was their friend great,
And now they hoped to prove their hate),
But the savage predicted it,
And both did he ignobly hit
Though not fatally, for ‘twould be
Lord Storm’s mounting blade he did see
Into his skull and thus him weak
Against the soldiers not so meak,
And thus the savage there would die,
Hordamas avenged by the sky
(So too the others slain by it,
The strong warriors dead to wit).
When free from the fight, they now watched
If Embar had slain foe or botched
The attempt for his youthful heart,
They now watched one killed soul depart,
That of Ordes the captain slain
Though manner of slayer not plain
For ‘twas not Prince Embar culprit
As emerged Cone’s son with bold wit,
Him being the kind Prince Ganor
Determined by divine planner.
He had heard the ordeal present,
Dismissed as nightmare unpleasant
Only now did he grasp its truth,
Rescuing the bleeding still youth,
Regrets he had for fallen allies
Whose leaving souls then shall now rise
To Her palace above gravely
For he could have saved them bravely;
His skill in war second to few
As those around him surely knew.
Then he marked young Prince Embar close:
“I pity ‘tween traitors you most
Of the old Royal House of Gare,
Descended from masters in spar
As taught by Glorana herself,
How far they have fallen from twelfth
In the lines and halls of the greats,
Away in the grandest of rates.
But you, least of them all in worth,
Bear no fault from the wavered hearth,
And thus I allow you to leave,
Taking nothing under your sleeve
But empty hands and blood to take
As you deliver Parrdon’s Rake
For our message to King Kollys
You, prince, who survived and saw this,
Endorsing the Deutran courage
Higher than all as your wine ridge,
That Gare stands upon and will burn,
Fires crack and the houses will churn
On the morn we take our vengeance,
That will be our fine repentance
For the death of my father grand:
Gare destroyed by his son’s strong hand.
Thus I give you leave to depart
Do take it and go and be smart,
As not you have done already,
Staying still when needs be ready.
Haut Lord Storm will escort you out
To quell any lingering doubt
That your character has intents
Malevolent, whose aim bents
On disturbing our vict’ry night
When failed you have already right.
Make sacrifice to Glorana
To fulfill her divine mana,
Only then will you relay news
Of my words and your perished cues.
Thus, go, Embar, ye Prince of Gare,
And may your journey be safe far.”
As he spoke divine whispers led
As if his words its powers fed:
A rising wave in the distance
Appeared quickly in an instance,
Taller than a mountain could boast
Nearing the poor Deutran camp’s coast,
Ripples branched out and made stirring
Of the waters, now began whirring
In its dolorous alarum,
Unstoppable by all bar some
Intervention by holy will,
That which did happen by Her skill,
Dissipating it all before
It reached and wreaked havoc on shore,
Then came brace comets, red and blue
Trav’ling the sky in tandem through,
A foe and friend represented,
As they left sight and cemented
The omen with no more doubting,
Only to convince those its routing.
Glorana Above gave credence
By the vision’s grand impedance
Of laws natural and divine,
To help kind Ganor’s words benign,
And agreed it was, his consent
By all and Lord Storm led content
The youngest son of the traitor
Back to the city’s dictator.
As for the unconscious brute Straen,
A prisoner would he remain,
For information he possessed
Of his father to need attest
Crudor dragged him away alone
As Gordus and Edry made known
Their deceased comrades in a pyre
Soon to be consumed by a fire
Tomorrow (as for now they hid
In sticks to cleanse the bodies rid
Of filth and locusts to be thieves,
Thus they worked in their righteous heaves).
Kind Ganor thought to wake the King,
His youngest brother crowned in ring,
Being Trichallion in mirth,
The greatest warrior on earth,
Though then he thought against it true,
Not wanting him to this night rue,
Thus he went off to patrol camp
And make sure of the wall’s cleared ramp,
Lamenting all the way the deaths,
For how many could he save less
That bit the ground’s dust in pity,
Retiring to Her glowed city.
But fie, what Ganor did not mark,
Was his brother scouring in dark,
The eldest, Cyndaeus, shadowed
Lord Storm and Embar by that old
Path they now traveled on ordered
By prince as the edge now bordered.
He was rash after the choosing
That led to him the crown losing;
He had not slept and instead longed
For something to fix him, the wronged,
He wished to be like his namesake,
The King of the Task, not plain make
And who else would on his shoulder
Sit and make these bent thoughts colder,
But Parrdon with his Rake burning,
The fire’s ember him spurning,
Whispering into his deaf ears,
Hate festered after all the years
Tired and slandered, Cyndaeus vied
Here was a chance for pittance tried:
There was Prince Embar, whose kin slew
Cyndaeus’ own, and the hate grew
More for Lord Storm, Sinder’s bastard,
Who once drove chariots mastered
By that same King when he still fought,
Though like Cynus to him age caught,
But Cone’s son despised no man more
Than this Lord Storm in Draltan corps
For the prize stole’d away with death,
That be his mother’s final breath,
For King Sinder once with her laid
And thus was the bastard Storm made,
At the cost of Cone’s wife fatal
To bring in her last babe natal.
Thus Cyndaeus watched with fierce gaze,
Thoughts of the two hoping to raze
With fury and force sent to leave
Them on the ground with no reprieve.
But as Cyndaeus made to pounce,
Glorana Above did announce
In his mind a warning only
He knew that its knowledge lonely
Forbid him from doing so rude
An act that would have him intrude,
So he resolved to cleanse his mind
Of evil and strive to be kind
To those he would then have had hurt
Thus he raced across camp alert
To make an exclamation proud,
Here he proclaimed his thoughts so loud:
“Halt, friends, let me join you in stride,
For who else could I want at side?
I have with me two gifts to give,
Come from those that no longer live,
Brothers I loved with conscious ease,
Falaenus and Damaretes,
That perished earlier today,
Their souls hefted above, away.
I retrieved the first’s well round shield,
And other’s sword that made foes yield.
I can think of no better men
To give these as they brave the den
Of lions and traitors equal
Trace and making horrid sequel
To the first foul act done by them
Uprooting the flower from stem,
Thus I implore you to take gifts
From me as I join your path’s shifts,
For surely the men of Gare wise,
Will give into four royal eyes,
That of Cone’s son, the fierce eldest,
And of the traitor king’s youngest.
Any semblance of fiends will fade,
As we kindle a hope to aid
In the rescue of my sisters,
To rid the world of the blisters
That be the savages wicked,
With all their licked blood, insipid.”
Cyndaeus made his note assured
To share noble journey endured,
But not each word marked influence
From Glorana’s push issuance,
For Wicked Parrdon sat too near,
Laughing as he whispered severe,
Thus as the three made their journey
(After the two would return he
Some thanks in embrace and shared
Walk to Gare taking gifts prepared),
All was not well when the moon shone,
For both families round King Cone,
As when e’er there comes a blessing
The stars demand balance, stressing
Forces that plague the sanctity
Of good health for humanity,
Thus always beware him: Parrdon,
That stifles the life-held garden.