Light’s Faithful Triumph

[tcs_tonsils_ 2829]

Light’s Faithful Triumph

On this the 7th of JOMA AG UMUND, 454 E.S.

 

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They came with clubs and swords.
Their heavy footfalls were thunderous,
As they marched upon these red walls.
They came with their giants and apes,
Earthquakes abound as evil approached,
The False Prince marched on red walls. 

 

The grunts of lingering, looming beasts,
And the roars of Oleg-sized hellspawn. 
They stood before us at first daylight,
With armies glistening in gray and red.
In their multitudes, those daemons
Stood determined before our red walls. 

 

But they were met with pikes and arrows,
Shields and Swords, Hammers and cannons
They forced us into fighting on two fronts,
Our armies split between East and North.
We marched out from behind tall red walls
To meet their brutish force with our own.

 

And one of our men fought like five men,
Forces of darkness can not destroy light.
Despite the hellfire falling down upon our helms,
Malflame burning down houses and homes,
No man or woman retreated in cowardice,
For every Haeseni knew their duty.

 

Each stroke of our steel was a masterpiece. 
Each arrow fired had deadly precision.
Our ballista bolts whistling across the sky,
Plunging themselves deep into our challengers.
Every cannon shot forced the enemy to flee,
Fearing the imminent end of their sad lives.

 

When there were more bodies upon the dirt,
Than there were standing on the ground.
When all the enemy soldiers lay dead,
Drowning in their own fire and blood,
It was then that the battle found its height,
As the King dueled that Falsehood of a Prince.

 

Their strikes fell in tandem, sequence,
Each blow increased the intensity.
Then came that fateful thrust, the King’s sword
Plunging deep into the Prince’s chest.
They both crashed to the ground,

But it was only the Prince who was left to parish.

 

The battle was won. 

Light’s faithful servants held triumphant over all.

 

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Signed,
His Lordship, Borris Iver Kortrevich KML

Knight's Bard, Court Poet, and Battle-Bard of the BSK

 

[Capt_Chief26 1205]

Ser Reinhardt Barclay reads the new poetry drop and wonders why Boris Kortrevich hasn’t been made a Hauchkossar yet