Forums

IV.7 The Song of Lamanda, Sorceress of Lesarkus
or, The End of Circleblade Bog

Come forth, I pray, good spirits old,
For tidings grim have I been told:
Before the sun is set tonight,
The ogrish horde will come to fight,
To pierce the thick forfending fog
And burn away the circling bog.
My lords, prepare thyselves to save,
For shamans seek to you enslave -
Some dozens now, behind them more,
With plans to compass sacred shore.
Take no offense with me, I ask,
For taking on myself the task -
To enter ancient holy ground
For centuries in song renowned.
I would not see you spirits pressed
To serve at enemy's behest,
But bid you fight or hide or flee.
And if it's pleasing also see,
Your servant sent by safer path,
For of the bog I've borne the wrath;
I kneel here now but limp and bleed
And to survive your aid shall need.
And please excuse one last request,
If ye would put my heart to rest:
For all my life the songs have told
Of spirits locked in contest old
But none revealing for what sake
You twain do battle o'er the lake;
That I might know the reason why,
And why from us you're ever shy,
And so to show that here I came,
That I might know from each thy name.

Be quiet now, thou servant bold;
We've known for long what thou've been told.
The shamans have our patience tried -
The fog has thinned; the bog is dried.
They'll burn the land, its riches reave,
But ere they reach us we will leave.
Such fools they are, and not to fear -
We'll send thee safely, faithful seer.

We are no local spirits here;
We reach the worlds both far and near,
To warm and cool most living hearts,
To shape them with our tender arts.
No longer here will power show,
But worlds no less our struggle know.
And even if in shadow hides,
Our work returns like quiet tides.

Were we to fight, it would be grand,
Desires stirred like fires fanned -
No shaman could resist her sight,
Its searing and transforming light;
Nor any turn my firm resolve
In which they'd find their selves dissolve.
But such is not our power's goal -
Each loves the other, thus made whole.

Our war of love no one can use -
We war to show such threat a ruse:
No one can bind beloved will -
Since we are loved, thus free are still.
Our names the shamans soon will seek
And summon but imposters weak.
So let them roam throughout the fen;
They shan't disturb our work again.

In times of war, we cannot share
What words of warring cannot bear;
Although in answer given nought,
Thou knows us well, and as thou ought.
Fear not for us nor for thy life,
For thou and we shall last the strife.
Go now to row first north, then west,
And thither find both friends and rest.