'pon sifting through the remnants of the magic-man's display
and sighing deep frustration at the magical affray
a scroll of musty vellum writ with words that faintly glow
settles on the table neatly as if the year's first snow.
The title titillates, telling tales of teed-off Thorgrim,
(If you are truly honest, in your school you did ignore him)
Yet even now the sickly glow begins to grace the mountains
And you know the ghosts will flood, as if they'd sprung from fountains
Assessing all remaining riches, (some petty gems, some salted fishes),
Anon absconds, the lighting flashes, his cloak accruing yet more ashes.
The parchments and the pouches, nestled close against your chest
Should provide enough by way of wealth to earn a little rest.
The vigor of the ashen storm and shifting of the dune
Is to a semi-fugitive, a deeply welcome boon.
Yet lizardfolk (and mayhaps more!) are keen and crafty trackers
And once their blood is up 'bout something, surely they're no slackers!
Ahead, the dunes, behind, the threat,
To east, the range, to west, sunset.
And where the final sunlight spills, o'er western dunes and scrubland hills,
Doth lie the swamp, and then the sea; perhaps a ship, might see you free.
Yet many eyes in docks do pry and mayhaps there in wait the lizards lie!
Amidst the weighty cardinal choice, you swear you might have heard a voice.
Afore precaution quite sets in, your head is filled with awful din;
You see with eyes not quite your own, and hear a dirge smote out of stone!
——————————————————————————
(In the key of Cmin)
'Cmin' 'Eb' 'G' 'Eb' 'Cmin'
Of Thorgrim's Range, there's much to tell.
A mountain's change, a sulfrous smell.
By night or day, may fire rain.
'Cmin' 'Eb' 'Dmin' 'D' 'Cmin' 'Bmin'
For those who stay, naught but great pain.
'Cmin' 'A' 'Bb' 'A' 'Eb' 'D'
Yet strength and skill, did some re-prieve,
For them their will, did fire out-seethe.
Cmin Eb G Eb C
A people strong of ash and sand,
now holds great power o'er land.
Their kin art strong and noble too,
I fear their numbers very few.
If thou art man, mamono, beast or god
Thy feet now on their holy soil doth trod.
With grace and kindness find escape,
While callousness shall summon rape,
And so it shall be for all time,
'ere mountain turns again to lime.
The weather harsh, the winds doth whip
No soggy marsh, will trav'ler trip.
The peaks of stone, now stained black
Do shake and groan, and often crack.
And when the land, 'pon which all breed,
Doth smite good stablehand, and steed,
In rains of black, of jagged stone,
That spareth neither babe nor crone,
Take shelter! Return to thy home!
For many don't, and lie in loam.
For here, within this sea of sand,
Now black and feared, yet once so grand,
The mountains take, the priests still pray,
The bakers bake, their fears allayed
With blessed soil, where 'tis found
Shall hardy toil, sow the ground.
The farming here, is bounteous still
Though yet much fear, prevades these hills.
For Thorgrim's anger may provoke,
What once neath greener mountains woke.
It split the peaks, it ravaged land
It dried the creeks, it spit forth sand
And so did Thorgrim's people fail.
With nary but one thundrous wail.
Yet still upon these dunes, they wait.
They'll sleep for many moons, saith fate.
But not forever, fate decreed.
Their spirits, wrathful, still doth bleed.
Their anger towards the mountain-folk,
Hath driven them their chains to yoke,
And often now they seige the burrows,
Their axes, swords, leave horrid furrows
The bodies rended, skulls deep cloven,
And so their sorrow'd tale is woven.
The spectral arms of man, mamono,
Be it spear or sword or bolo
Fade as sunlight reaches sand
And wisps of spirits solid stand
Afore they too, make good their flights
They blow again, to moonless nights.
————————————————————————