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From the Tales of Serquina, the Scholar and Founder of Gressdelman, School of the Dravorein Kingdom of Asdijalien.The Traversers’ Memoirs Part I: Wondrous Realms and Diverse Helms.
This tale comes from a place,
where there are trees tall,
yet dwarfed; by the might,
of a mountain, its height;
commanding, spewing a fountain,
of steam and ice, hence its hues,
were brown and white like a dice,
in this mountain’s heart,
once lived a lonely bard,
he sung roars of flame,
that spiked up rocks and left them deranged;
the moss and the residents of the cave,
danced on the lullaby of this flame,
these were rhythms of agonizing pain
this bard was broken into shards,
not of glass, he was, lost,
because he was separated,
from his friend,
who was long dead,
In this realm of Wiftelas,
no one; no fish, no bird,
understood the hurt,
beneath his unrelenting angst,
his fear-inducing fangs,
and claws like a lumberjack’s ax,
cowered a soul of an innocent,
this bard’s intentions went crescent,
after the unforgettable incident,
It was in the morning of Esdaeri
in the wintery month of Lebun-dar
The Bard, who was called,Rurmstas,
was seen flying past,
a mound of Fertendi’s guards,
who were terribly charred,
The witness, it was told, was Fertendi’s minister,
ironic it was, he also was the barrister,
the Lord’s decree was that the bard be caught,
The King’s bravest lot,
were set upon, a risk sponsoring task,
they were immensely aided by trade carts,
from whence men saw the flying bard,
he sought protection in a cave,
but it was too late; he was traced
in they barged, and with a war cry they charged,
they weren’t scared of his ferocious blaze,
the bard was chased and was shackled,
he struggled and tried to unfurl,
his wings, and break the iron strings,
that wrapped him, but it was in vain,
they were too many to be tackled,
there was no way their web of doubts,
could be heckled,
He was dragged to the courtyard on the hill,
the audience, scared and in awe, stood still,
the bard’s eyes – shone like an Emerald green,
the catalyst to their beauty, were the tears,
he could do nothing but weep,
He was once their protector, he did not kill,
it was Curgesda, the one with dusty wings,
it was rumored that she worked for “the mad onething”
He was the step-son of a Dracilien King,
Rurmstas the Bard had seen this witch,
approach the royal guards, shape shift, and burn them;
it all was quick,she was swift,no one noticed,
The bard went after her,
but she vanished,
and his hopes famished,
the minister was an insider,
it was he who aided her,
for he knew the cavalry and the royal family,
better, than anyone,
the plot was to devour the armed forces,
and eventually crush the Just Rulers under their own horses,
possible it was not in the presence of Rurmstas,
so they decided to remove this stubborn fiddle,
of course it wasn’t difficult like a riddle,
the minister and Curgesda needed to play with the King’s mind,
And now their mission was almost accomplished,
Rumrstas’ head lay on the Gallows’ bricks,
for it was too large to fit within carved wood,
And there he stood, cloaked and unknown,
The bard’s dear friend,
as the gigantic axe rose in the air,
and as all persons stared,
this friend unsheathed his blade,
and with a few swift steps,
flung onto the guards, repelled them off,
slicing the chains, he freed the bard,
“Farewell dear Rurmstas”
those were his words last,
the dragon flapped his wings hard,
and flew away fast,
a rain of arrows bore down,
on the Bard’s friend,
his blood sprinkling and screams filling,
the chaos ridden realm,
it was the last of this brave man,
who had taken care of the bard,
since he was a year and a half,
And it was the very last time,
Men saw Rurmstas,
in his pain he was lost,
in the Mountains of Wifteras,
the Southern cousin of Isoraes,
he flew for seven days,
leaving no trace, behind,
but the clouds yet remember his cries,
and Rumrstas yet lies,
buried under unforgiving ice,
in the heart of Tarbelas,
and he forever will be called,
the Bard who was ever distraught.
From the Tales of Serquina, the Scholar and Founder of Gressdelman, School of the Dravorein Kingdom of Asdijalien.
The Traversers’ Memoirs Part I: Wondrous Realms and Diverse Helms.
~ Rafi Mr.Green