《Serpent's Herald》Histories of Nedreal : The Black Fort
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The Wind Shall Remember
So goes the tale for those who'll hear it told
There stood a fort as old as time itself
None left who saw it come into our world
Long years of war and battle it withstood
Blood soaked its stone and death lived in its wood
Dark stood the tower in winter and summer
Its halls and its stones drank all fear and all sorrow
It consumed sound of war and the sharp clang of sword
And those who did dwell there first beheld in their dreams
Dark murmurs, old whispers, and soft echoes of screams
Deep in the tower a dark mind had stirred
Crimson it's thought filled by anguish and wrath
It whispered in dreams and made itself heard
And the lips of its dwellers carried its voice
Abiding its biddings, never making the choice
'Till Egthon the Bloody, with marauders in tow
Assaulted the tower, under moon's glow
Its whispers and words bewitched Egthon's thought
Lord and his bandits bloody deeds wrought
And the tower once more with crimson was bought
Dawn cast its warmth on the tower's dark walls
Where Egthon the Sleepless meandered the halls
Thought bent on his reign that he yearned to expand
The tower's dark mind had its bloody right hand
And its will now had means to ravage the land
Each night Egthon's mind wrestled the tower
Drawn was his face and his countenance dour
His thoughts ever darkened and anger did grow
Fear bloomed 'midst his allies, and spread like disease
His kingdom did shake 'neath his bloody decrees
Folk of the land lived in fright of his madness
His rule brought to them nothing but sadness
To spirits they prayed for relief of their plight
They sued for a hero to cleanse the dark fort
To relieve them of Egthon, their ruthless lord
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Yet for many a year their pleas were ignored
'Till first day of spring, two score years in his rule
There came a man with the dawn at his back
Wind bore his words over walls and through stone
Oh Egthon the Sleepless, I seek you alone
O'er the rampart the guards sneered and mocked
Begone ye poor fool, bother not our great lord!
Blue cloak hid his face yet his voice clearly sang
Egthon the Bloody, descend from your throne!
Guards cried in one voice, flee fool, you're alone!
He paid them no heed and a third time he spoke
Egthon the Vessel, mindless hand of the fort
I shan't wait for long 'afore invading your court
Atop the fort's walls guards seethed and enraged
Their lord's honour abused, battle they waged
Shining mail, clanging sword, and cries - for our lord!
Then a silence befell and the gate gravely groaned
There stood Egthon the Bloody, in crimson adorned
Blemished crown 'pon his brow, a contemptuous mien
Grating voice shook the air - who dares intervene!
Then the blue mantled man lowered his hood
Frost filled grey eyes, framed by ebony mane
Seized lord and guards and showed them their bane
The tower then shook and guards fell to their knees
But their lord stood unbent, resisting with ease
I am the Scion of the northern wind
The comfort to thine land’s despondent pleas
I’ll cleanse the stone and wood of the old fort
Leave now - free, and of your own accord
The man in blue called to the bloody lord
The great lord’s visage then twisted and soured
Grim laughter boomed and in anger he howled
Guards trembled in fear and fled from the men
I shall suffer no wind, and neither her hen
Begone, blithering fool - never come here again
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Adarsara’s Scion stood fast - undeterred
The bloody lord’s words his courage had spurred
Once more he cried out in a mightier voice
I know your measure, I have my mission
Begone from this land of your own volition!
Malevolent malice took hold of the lord
With white-knuckled tension he clung to his sword
A hideous snarl warped and twisted his face
He surrendered to bloodlust and hailed her embrace
And longingly welcomed the tower’s dark grace
Hear me, dark mind, crimson soul of the fort
Spur my hen-hearted guards - ‘tis my last resort
Then a Ghastly green glow boiled forth from the wall
It grasped for the guards - ‘till green their eyes shone
Filled by a dark will, and relieved of their own
Adarsara’s scion knew the thoughts of the fort
Halt thine dread will - to the spirit he called
Untangle your tendrils from mind and soul
Relieve them of memories - not yours to control
Egthon, thine vessel shall suffer their toll
Eghton’s mad laughter resounded once more
The fort shan’t obey the fool at its door
Yet horror and shock - the green glow abated
It yielded his guards, their courage deflated
Then Egthon did scowl at the scion he hated
Thrice you shall hear my guidance - oh Egthon
Be gone from this fort, ‘tis your final hope
Cried the scion, unyielding ‘neath Egthon’s gaze
The frenzied lord was deaf to his appeal
O’rtaken by black will - full of crimson zeal
The blue mantled man knew Egthon’s intent
But the scion’s great will was not to be bent
It swept through the land whose colour it drained
Barring Egthon’s green light - which had remained
Thus the fort’s bloody will its vessel had chained
Filled by crimson lust, Egthon blindly charged
The Scion evaded and raised was his blade
It sundered the tendrils, their clutches unmade
I free thee, poor vessel, your toll is thus paid
Absent his chains, on the ground Egthon laid
The Scion turned away from the poor lord
And raised his mighty sword to the old fort
Luminous grey eyes beheld its bloody soul
I broke my word, yet mercy was the goal
Fourth warning - leave now, ended is your role
Indignation and shame burned in his breast
Deaf to the world, by revenge thus possessed
He squirmed ‘pun the earth and dagger he drew
The bloody lord lunged and his vile blade plunged
His credulous foe was thus surely expunged
Piercing blue light spilled forth from the wound
Its power and might struck Egthon aside
His mind overwhelmed, he lay ‘pun the earth
Henceforth he was known as Egthon the Mad
Though vile last deed, completed he had
Adarsara’s Scion was mortally struck
Life he did forfeit to accomplish his task
He then flung his sword, last effort of will
True flew his blade at the heart of the fort
The scion then kneeled, and colours returned
Shook then the fort with an agonized scream
Gone was the dark soul and too its regime
Naught but ruins remained of the once mighty fort
None saw again him who vanquished its court
Forgotten by time, for its grace is quite short
But the wind shall remember.
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