Xarkly 12567 Share Posted January 20, 2022 Ve Stezdsa i Andrik's Goszk THE LEGEND OF ANDRIK'S CUP Spoiler When King Andrik fell upon a chase His liegemen rushed him home with haste In their rush they left their retreat Whereupon the King’s Cup did poachers treat The looters squabbled, for who would own this treasure? Until from the Cup one drank, and killed his kin with pleasure For within the Cup lay the fire of the King And he who drank could face all fate would bring With the Cup in hand, the poacher roamed the land He razed farm and village, and hundreds died to his hand For he was the Knight of the Cup and a brigand true With the strength of King Andrik, all challengers he slew A court of thieves he raised around the Cup Though compared to he, each one was a pup For generations of pillaging they endured And in the eyes of justice they remained obscured The Knight did spite virtue and died of age But he passed down the Cup as he left his stage Thus the legend of the Knight of the Cup was born anew And judgment did the Knight eschew - An anonymous Haeseni folksong 23 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
The King Of The Moon 5116 Share Posted January 20, 2022 Lothar, the Prince of Comoară, hums the old highlander tune to himself whilst cleaning yet another brush in his favourite shiny cup. To this day that paint-stained goblet’s historic significance remains lost on him. 7 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScoutTheWitch 357 Share Posted January 20, 2022 Emelya Eloise Kortrevich listened to the folksong in the tavern while working on editing the bestiary before her, "Ah, a metaphor about the folly of unchecked pride and how it leads to suffering." She commented to herself, before glancing to the pages of mystical monsters in her tome, "It... is a metaphor, da?" 1 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts