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Panic as it Steps

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.

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