Songs of Power

A faux-edda. Finding actual battle too tedious, the forces of Good & Evil in this world prefer to have their Court Bards sing of it instead. Hear ye, then, of the epic struggles of Light & Darkness - which may (or may not) have happened.



The silver coin spins, glinting in the light of myriad lamps, flames & phosphorescent appendages, and lands showing a grinning skull.

"The Darkness has the call. You may proceed, BlackBard."

The cloaked & mysterious figure of the Black Bard shuffles up to the podium.  Taps at the arcane device there, and mutters, in time honoured fashion, "Is this thing on?"

The gathered crowds indicate their readiness, in like traditional manner - "Geddon widdit, ya sorry beggar!"

Taking a deep breath, the Bard...


"When dusk was near, in dry plains sere,

And all the land was still –

No breath of air

Nor water fair

Only heat on brown plain and hill –

Heat, and heavier, the oppressive fear.


From treeless land, some giant’s hand,

Had thrust a large rock bare –

No grass on its crown

Nor, looking down

Movement in the brown grass spare –

But on that dome a tower, long unmanned.


Unmanned for long, yet now thin song

Rose from its pinnacles quivering –

A voice grown cold

With sorrows untold

A voice of fear and shivering –

And yet a voice unearthly strong.


The tale of time was in that rhyme

A tale of Light & Shadow’s dance –

A tale of death

Life’s last cold breath

Eternal sleep, cold endless trance –

Of ancient, irredeemable crime.


Of spirits lost, in endless frost

Stolen souls and stolen powers –

No faithful pledge

Nor blood, nor flesh

Nor incense sweet, nor fresh picked flowers –

Souls, souls alone could pay that cost.


That haunting chant, that madman’s rant

Called on dark powers in darker voice –

With thunder stroke

The veil he broke

In their presence he does rejoice –

And with their cold his soul supplant."

The crowd waits, silent.

"So it began. Well. Your dais now."

The End

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