On Red Mountain

[Caveatar]

On Red Mountain

(With apologies to the Finnish Epic creators and to Bethesda)

 

Now in triumph stands the Stranger

Gone from Vvardenfell the danger

of the Mad god and his minions

yet the Stranger's heart is sore

 

Standing high atop Red Mountain

Dagoth Ur beneath Red mountain

Dead False God beneath his mountain

dead now and gone forevermore

 

Then the Stranger feels his heart rend

and he mourns his one-time best friend

for his own hand slew his old friend

and the grief strikes him full sore

 

Now the wounds upon his body

seemed to throb with pain no longer

as he seemed to hear the whisper

of the voice of Dagoth Ur

 

"My old friend in faith I served thee

and a torment great it cost me

as my heart and mind was twisted

and on godhood I insisted

 

Yet at heart I meant to serve thee

truly wished to do thy bidding

but the power brought corruption

to a heart that once was pure

 

From that curse you have released me

From insanity you freed me

with your hand you have restored me

with that fatal stroke restored me

I have passed but into freedom

from the madness of false godhood.

 

From your mem'ry drive the sadness

of the days of my great madness

and until the day you join me

once again if such may yet be

I will yet ask one thing of thee

ne'er forget I truly loved thee"

 

As the whisp'ring voice faded

as the weight from off his heart rose

back unto the entrance turned he

to the heart of the volcano

 

now the twisted corpus creatures

fled before the warrior striding

back into the depths of burning

to the depths of Dagoth's stronghold

 

there he took the Hammer Sunder

there he took the keen blade Keening

there into the lava dropped them

where the lava drew them under

 

from his hand removed the Wraithguard

cast it too into the lava

down it went into the burning

to be buried there forever

 

for their Potency and Power

was not worth the price exacted

let them never twist another

unto madness and destruction

 

not for men to be immortal

not for friend to kill his true friend

let the Dwarf's Tools sink forever

and stay buried in the fire.

 

His hot tears dropped slowly downward

as last tribute to an old friend

an old friend and close companion

tribute to his old time brother

for his True Friend, Dagoth Ur.

 

 

Ok Malchik and others.

I stand at the bridge to challenge all who would pass. :D :D

(Actually I sit at the computer to have a bit of fun reading your writing.)

[jimbob 11]

not bad. the prophecies had less rhyming and somehow sounded better, but that was good.

[Switch]

Xionith's post deleted. Don't post stuff unrelated to the topic. Read the rules please.

 

Oh and nice poem Caveatar ;)

[Malchik]

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...

 

It's the weekend and I'm away until Monday. I'll be on the case, workload permitting.

 

In the meantime:-

 

Life is just a bowl of cherries. Sour and full of pips!

Let's laugh as often as we can, crack jokes and funny quips

Let only good thoughts come from either written word or lips

And pride or malice be the sin that other people trips.

 

Nasty moralising streak so many RPG's have. Starting to affect me!

 

Help :huh:

[Malchik]

UMBRA

 

Once, as I walked the hills above Suran

I came upon an orc, I'd first thought man

Til I perceived he was in orcish armour dressed.

I hailed him cheerily for well I know

A laughing welcome can disarm a foe.

He did not smile. His face I saw with pain distressed.

 

"Youth," he responded, "can you so gaily prate

When this our world is filled with woe and hate

And it seems I alone of men have been so blessed

To see this clearly and be full aware

That hope is lost? Look on me and despair."

I shook my head. "Life's good, my friend. Why be depressed?"

 

"Have you yet killed?" he asked through tight-clenched jaws.

"Of course," I answered. "Only with good cause."

My quick response fell flat. He sighed, still further stressed.

"Who in the Empire set you up as judge?

Are you impartial; never bearing grudge?"

I smiled, demurring. "I am but human," I confessed.

 

My clothes were fine. My burnished armour shone.

 

"I have killed boys whose parents set them on."

He said. "No coin for bread, starvation pressed.

First would they beg to buy some food to live.

Alas I could help them not. I'd none to give.

They, wracked with fear and hunger, to bestial state regressed.

 

At first I parried. They but charged again.

Pale, stick-like children, some as young as ten.

They fought as if to kill me were a kind of test.

Sheer weight of numbers gave them hope to win.

They had no strength, sick-bodied and so thin.

I slew them all, save one who stood as if possessed.

 

Aged, p'raps fourteen - I ordered him to go.

'How can I flee and leave my brothers so?'

That he would surely die had left him unimpressed.

'Fight me you rogue, from here I'll never leave.

I am no coward, nor will I live to grieve.

Redraw your sword you fool, or do you think I jest?'

 

All I could do was ask the question why.

'Have you 'ere watched small babies, starving, die?

Screaming with hunger, like unfed eaglets, still in the nest?

You overeat and throw your food to waste.

We would eat any, yet have we none to taste.'

He leaped. I struck. The well-honed blade passed through his chest.

 

The orc's green face was now awash with tears.

"That was one tale, my friend. Throughout the years

There have been many. They my waking mind infest.

It must end now and you will be my fate

If you're prepared. I would not have you 'late'.

I have been good but rumour tells me you are best."

 

I laughed uneasy; his own death his goal?

"You but mistake me. Find some other soul.

I am engaged on urgent and more vital quest."

He shook his head and quickly drew his sword.

"Slay me and take it. You shall be its Lord.

Quickly despatch me from a life that I detest."

 

"If I must fight you, I would know your name,"

I said, thinking perhaps his words a game.

"By killing me so many wrongs will be redressed

that you should know me. Call me Shadow then;

Still feared on Vvardenfell by mer and men.

Now battle. Both I and my sword you must contest."

 

He could not triumph, I was strong in power.

Yet, as he died, the victory felt sour.

I was ashamed and bitter - thoughts that I fast repressed.

 

Long years have gone since from his grasp I pried

The blade his name had shared until he died,

Which in my longsword's scabbard I quickly did invest.

 

And you would think his ending soon forgot.

Memory, that needs far more than time to rot

Sometimes returns with heavier meaning then expressed.

 

I will not bore you, listing where I 've been

The pitiful, pointless deaths that I have seen

Say now I know why darkness he had so caressed.

 

Now if you search the hills behind Suran

You'll find no orc, just me, a simple man

Seeking... Ah, no. Why say? I'm sure you must have guessed.

I too am Shadow. That's my name by right.

Where 'ere I go, I blanket hope with night.

Knowing in easeful death alone will I find rest.

 

Fame, power, riches - all these count as nought.

Yet in my time I have for these three fought.

You must not follow. That is my full heart's request.

There is one chance. If you are wise and brave

Live not for self but other people save.

And redeem me. Come plunge your blade into my breast.

 

If I had more time I could improve several of the lines but I needs must work to live. Who next?

[Caveatar]

Malchik - Playwright and Actor

 

Man of words and man of Art

As you fan the Thought to flame

Let the Forge in your heart

Cast your Words in lasting Fame

Heed the Muse, play the part

In the Art you'll feel no shame

Kudos. Encore! Author! Author! Break a leg.

 

(At Mermaid Tavern we'll broach a fresh keg.)

 

Aye, had ye time 'n' audience would need no lever and no place to stand yet thou wouldst move the world with but thine art.

[AdamNeko]

The Lonely Jedi

 

From the depths she crawled, carrying a wicked blade.

From whence she came, no one could say.

However, she had been called Nerevarine, Hortator and hero,

brought into fame by Azura on this bleak day.

 

The fight had been epic, made strong by Vivec,

tempered by her own knowledge of inner power,

weilding Wraithguard, Keening and Sunder.

This warrioress could be matched by almost no other.

 

What truely happened in the depths of Red Mountain,

one can only wonder.

But Dagoth Ur's defeat at her hands could certainly be

considered the false god's blunder.

 

Freed from blight, Vvardenfell rests.

The feline warrior became the legend,

being the one who passed Azura's tests.

However, her journey would show her no end.

 

A short poem from the top of my head, but certainly not bad for written at the spur of the moment. Moon and Star, I don't know why I don't write these more often.

Edit: Just a quick correction in the third stanza, for better flow.

[ThetaOrionis01]

The Price of Glory

 

 

Lonely is the hero’s path

Encounters fleeting, friendships not to be

For one driven thus by destiny.

Perhaps, though, in the aftermath,

When the hero’s task is done,

A chance to be no longer the one.

 

No longer singled out by fate,

The future no longer on the edge of the knife,

Time to return to a former life

Free to live again, to love and hate -

This hope the hero did sustain.

But life can never be the same again.

 

The old life now seems small -

Too much that the hero before had not known

He cannot forget now, thus he has grown

Beyond what once to him was all.

Glory and worship are hollow

Yet where he goes they follow

 

Only one to understand

The emptiness which remains within,

Hero and enemy, they were akin.

Yet slain by the hero’s hand

Lies the only one to know

Lonely he too, the former foe.

[-Hawk-]

Wow- There are some seriously talented people on these boards :)

[Caveatar]

OKAY........Who is it? ;)

 

There is a moderator on these boards

Her hair is spiky and sharp as her wit

Everyone knows her talent with words

Tough but fair so don't act like a twit. (alternate: Don't give her any ****)

 

Accustomed as she is to children and cats

Ordinary spammers and trolls mean 'squat'

Ready and most able to quell any spats

If you think you bother her, I think NOT

 

Only she MIGHT have a hidden fault or two

[Now if she reads this her head won't swell]

Iron-handed, iron-willed. (Iron-pants too?)

She is a mostly modest moderator as well

 

Who is it? (as if it were a difficult question)