🟆 THE VEHEMENT ODE 🟆

[Crwys 122]

Spoiler

 

 

 

Intrigued by the gilded knots which adorn the embroidered cover of the leatherbound codex, you open it. There, upon the timbered lectern, is a folio with its leaves illuminated by metallic powder and many-hued inks. You recognize phrases quilled predominantly in the Common tongue alongside High Adunic calligraphy.

 

The book awaits for you to unravel the prose which it has diligently kept harbored within the bulwark of its pages...

 

 

Spoiler

THE VEHEMENT ODE

Camulos Goldaer Brúnor

 

Commissioned by her eminence, Tar-Caraneth Aryantë

Composed in honour of her and all others whom the drake Sordran chose to cleanse

The Temple of the Vehement Eye

 

 

I

 

II

 

III

 

IV

 

V

 

✧

 

 

Spoiler

I.

O muse, speak to me of that voyage great.

To that disgraced sanctuary in a land afar.

Whence a pox to be purified did await.

 

Númenedain, Druid, Oyashiman, and Dwedmar,

 

Set off from Balian, the pearl on the coast,

Their gallant vessel guided by glistening stars.

 

Then, in open sea, the ire of evil approached

 

In the fiendish figure of a thunderstorm. 

To the sail’s thrust would the lightning riposte,

 

The rain like hornets that charged in swarms,

 

The waves would surge to splinter the hull,

And forced shells of armour to gash and deform.

 

As their ship succumbed to the cyclone’s cull,

 

Above flew Sordran, shining scales on his skull.

 

II.

 

By the dragaar’s guidance, the heroes survived,

Awash on the shores of a derelict main,

In the temple grounds of the Vehement Eye.

 

Into the fractured abbey where Ænguls reigned,

 

Feet crunched stained glass, shattered in devils’ wars,
Ruins home now to shades trapped on our plane.

 

But these bands of holy Wraiths who guard evermore, 

 

Mistook the gracious ones for fiendish marauders,

And assaulted the heroes that sought breaking the door.

 

Alas, the sanctum’s entrance proved to be stronger, 

 

For a cluster of crystals, corrupted, acted as keys,

And needed to be cleansed with hallowed water.

 

With Wraiths closing in, the adventurers did agree, 

 

To unfurl their forces into fighting parties three.

 

III.

Samurai and Númenedain rushed up the Eastward spire,

Galvanising lights aglow through gaps of stone,

Refracted off tempered boards and blades born of fire.

 

At the apex, upon a rubble-made throne,

 

Sat a grandiose Wraith clutching a festooned glaive.
“ibls spawn, you face Dominicus!” calls his incensed groan.

 

His gilded armour patterned with the Lorraine engraved,

 

Radiant as a star, his sinuous spear surged with wrath,

Sparking as it clashed with Tar-Caraneth’s blade.

 

As Shugo Kato’s bowmen bombarded a bloodbath,

 

And shields of Númenedain clanged with booms,

Highborn Tar-Caraneth lunged—frenzied in her path! 

 

Her zealous broadsword, Caledfwlch, blazed under light of moon,

 

And by her flourished strikes, Dominicus fell to his doom.  

 

IV.

The East crystal cleansed, next is the tower of West,

Where a crew of Druii were in a fierce deadlock. 

Flowing as favonian winds directed with holy behest.

 

Yet the woodland Elves were steadfast rock,

 

Overcoming westward wardens struck with angor, 

And secured the tower like vigilant hawks.

 

Meanwhile the main bridge held a raging horde 

 

Of wrathful Wraiths who meet Dwedmar in a clash,

Led by the shade of Titus—the temple’s fallen lord.

 

The twisted axe of Titus was peppered with ash,

 

As he rampaged through plumes of fires rife,

A plucky fighter called Angr withstood his crash.

 

An axe hacked at his helm as Angr drew a knife.

 

The bold Dwed quelled the Wraith…but had paid with his life.

 

V.

 

Giving rites to the wounded and fleet mourns for the dead,

The valiant unlocked the gate and at last entered the sanctum,

Awestruck, they were, by the remarkable relic they saw ahead.

 

An opulent anvil with rune-written hymns,

 

Atop it, a hundred-stone hammer long untouched by man,

Now lifted by Templar Tar-Caraneth, an erstwhile Cleric, and a Paladin.

 

From the hammer sprung a seraphic beam of cyan,

 

Lights of lustrous hues that fluttered heavenward as doves,

Beckoning a righteous Dwed:—Sunforger, Centurion of Xan.

 

Though brash in behaviour, he bestowed the Lord’s love.

 

He looked upon the Banner of Triumvirate, and vowed,

“Come devils or darkness, goodness will triumph above.”

 

The temple’s sentinel blessed the heroes, hearty and proud,
Who, after a year marooned, lifted the isle’s shroud.

 

And from there they made it back again.

 

 

When you finish gathering the tale of the manuscript, you may ponder its disposition. What can you elicit from these ostensions words which now fill your mind? Where is the veracity, the truth, when one is guiding along the trim of myth and history? Who is to lionize the exploits of so-called heroes when long confronted with the perishing of celestial born beings and their withered arts?

 

Perhaps, if truth lies only within the Creator, we must rely on our inner judgement.

 

 

 

Spoiler

(Well, it was about time I finally post this project after telling people about it for so long...)

 

Let me say, writing this was no easy task, but I'm so glad that I've finally broken my own irritating perfectionism so I can share with all of you my first major project as my character, "Camulos Goldaer Brúnor, Poet of the White Court"!

 

For the unfamiliar, this poem arose from a request for Camulos to write a ballad by the leader of Númendil, Tar-Caraneth @AstriaS and her recollection of the events which occurred during the first chapter of the "Apotheosis" event line from earlier this year. What started as a simple ballad evolved into an epic poem inspired by famous works from Antiquity to the Renaissance, all packaged in a series of images based on medieval illuminated manuscripts like the Book of Kells.

 

However, as I was working on this, there were some major shifts in server lore. Notably the infamous defeat of the Aengul Xan and the subsequent fall of the Paladins. Given this, I was nearly considering scrapping this project entirely. But despite a struggle against creator's block, self doubt, and most of all, PROCRASTINATION, I stuck through to the end, and I've ended up with something I'm actually quite proud of.

 

A massive thank you to everyone who has supported me and have enjoyed roleplaying with Camulos so far. I also want to give shout outs to @Reckless Banzai Screamer (Uncle-O) and @Reece Nolan (Angr Ireheart), whose characters are also featured in this. While I'm certain there were many cool moments back when these events happened, this project was written only using IRP accounts given to Camulos by Tar-Caraneth, so I'm sorry to anyone or anything I did not include in this! 

 

And finally, a big thanks to YOU, the reader (assuming you have in fact read the above work and everything else here. Either way, I appreciate you.)  

 

"This has been your yearning bookman, Camulos, and I am utterly giddy to yeave to all of you folk more TOOTHSOME leethwork in aftertime. Farewell!"

 

Edited October 27, 2024 by Crwys
typo

[Wand 1220]

A once-cleric named Eris had been on a recent quest - seeking silvered rings that had fallen out of watchful eyes. Wistfully, she found herself fond as she passed through Numendil proper - and once she came upon the manuscript would smile. Hundreds of years and the cleric eye was seen again and known. It had not been an easy fight, and now the lightless had joined the ranks of the many former holy magi. Her legacy was followed, unbeknownst to her, by her son whom was Templar and by his many descendants too - but she was proud and confident for the generations that were.

She passes a letter to a courier in the city to deliver to the author.

"Please deliver this to the writer - I wish to have a copy."

The children of the new age were going to be alright.

[MrMojoMordor 2413]

Bon'Ox blinks as he reads through the work, time and time again, admiring the fine craftsmanship of the pages before him. The eloquent word-smithing, the art & the formatting that brings the whole composition together:

"Holy shit!" the goblin exclaims, "Now thiz iz art - mi zhould blah wit izi agh pick izi gruk zo mi kould deliver zumting like thiz fo' mi EPIC mi iz penning!" 

He then wonders where he could buy a few copies to show his friends.

 

Spoiler

geniuenly good piece of art & literature - i'm in awe!

 

Edited October 27, 2024 by MrMojoMordor

[SimplySeo 6999]

The Grey Prince, Aranuir, visibly gasped in awe as The Vehement Ode was displayed before the royal household- Astounded and shocked into humble silence by the skill displayed upon the manuscript.

[Reece Nolan 996]

I love this so much

[Werew0lf 24181]

Spoiler

so ******* good
 

 

[Cally 1080]

The Matriarch had gotten a personal copy from her librarian-in-arms and wordsmith sibling in the arts. She framed some of his illuminated manuscripts in carved arbor, and wowed upon them every time she entered her bed chambers, reading her friend's illustrious words sometimes whilst she laid in bed and awaited slumber to take her. He was an inspiration to her every day. Every. Day. 

 

Spoiler

This is truly something. . . I gasped when I opened it firstly.

 

 

[Petsch2k 1851]

Great job, awesome to see. +1