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The Tale of Ser August


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The Tale of Ser August

11th of Jova ag Umund,  426 E.S.


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[!] A portrait depicting Ser August Barclay adorned in his armor, prepared for battle.

 


A poem, commissioned by Ser August Barclay, depicting his epic and heroic knight's trial involving a battle between the brave squire and a deadly Skinwalker.


 

A simple task, turned complicated.

To hunt a pack of wolves within the overgrowth of Krusev.

A mission of such basic repute, flipped upon its head.

TO seek out the lot of wolves with the once mighty Krusev.

 

I passed upon the stony statues of Kortreviches long dead,

And brought myself to the edge of the forest, consumed by thicket.

As I made my way in, I found myself searching around worn down stead.

I found the packs, murdered and bloody, yet it was not I that did it.

 

In my unsureness, did I happen upon a Scyfling warrior with loosely woven thread.

The grandson of a Braltian Chieftan with his own quest to complete.

So he and I talked for hours, sincerity plaguing our features at what was said. 

Duel would commence, the best warrior to prove their better feat. 

 

Yet throughout the bout, we did not realize that to us, a creature had been lead.

Alas, a gnarled beast, a skinwalker did lurch towards the warrior, now gravely injured.

I did not flee or pause, instead, I took out my weapon, standing firm through the dread.

Alas, the gnarled beast did fly towards me. This creature that looked undead. 

 

Yet with motions as swift as I could, I sent my blade into it, the skull I did shred. 

It is the only way to kill the monstrosity, so I did it again and again, till it lay still. 

When the thing held no movement, only then did I sheath my weapon- covered in red.

Several weapons had been used, their pieces scattered across the hill. 

 

It was then that I noticed the Hetvn on the ground, deep pains with every second.

A warrior's death is what he asked for, so with my sword stroke, he took his final breath. 

 


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[!] Portrait of a Skinwalker


Signed,

Borris Iver Kortrevich KML,

Battle-Bard of the BSK and Court Poet

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Ser August smiles

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Haense seems to have a plethora of these knights.. And my quest goes unfinished, too. I shall make haste there soon. So spoke a figure on horseback, looking down to the city with a blank expression.

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