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The First of Snowberg: Difference between revisions

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|5. Let not hearts falter || though fearsome this beast
|5. The worm of flames || on wings of smoke
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|Bare now your blades || for our Baronies’ sake
|took to the sky || and scoured the land.
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|Lay down your lives || in our leaders’ names
|It razed cities || and ruined farmland -
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|Hark to the names || of the noble ones
|its greed begat || a grief profound.
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|6. Laurencia the deft || deep-minded and wise
|6. Too little it owned - || the land was ripe
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|[[Lyle FitzWilliam|Lyle]] the clever, || whose calls ring out
|and rich with prizes || it possessed not.
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|Elwynn the fierce, || ne’er flinches from war
|Its wanting grew || for want of grace,
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|[[Angus Kerr|Angus]] the bright-armed, || bravest of men
|and with it grew the rage || of the wrathful demon.
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|7. Bear the honor || of your brethren too
|7. To the East it gazed - || a gainsome plot
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|Who before did fight || fierce as tigers
|it thought that place - || a prize to claim.
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|Bought they with blood || two Baronies’ fame
|From the air it loosed || an oily flame-gout
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|Hear as I hail || these heroes of war!
|and landed in the ruins || it left behind.
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|8. Who fought cornered || ‘gainst castle wall
|8. Where trees once stood || now stained earth
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|Or strong shield met || and stopped berserkers
|alone could be found - || no life survived.
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|Who in deep forest || fought like seven,
|The woodlands rusted || like weapons of iron
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|Who spilled the foe’s || flight-swifts like rain,
|where the creature stopped - || still they are so named.
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|Or lunged through the foe || like a spear-head
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|9.  These warriors names || need not be sang
|9.  To the north lay || the linden-halls.
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|For heroes to the hall || homeward will come
|A cry went out - || the oaks of battle
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|Warmth of the hearth || welcomes the fighters
|moved to reclaim || their calloused soil!
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|Skalds will then chant || the champions’ fame
|Fierce the fighting - || the flame-clash of
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|10. Your bard calls out, || keen hear his voice.
|sturdy trees of || trials was felt in
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|Your baron calls, || bide no longer,
|every land and || in every hearth.
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|Your King calls out,  || come to his side! ||  
|Your King calls out,  || come to his side! ||  

Revision as of 14:27, 24 December 2013

This is written in the Old Norse Meter fornyrthislag by Magnús hvalmagi, though the general construction is inspired primarily by epic Anlgo-Saxon poetry.

It is the traditional charge of the Baronial Bard of Concordia to chronicle the deeds of the Snowberg Army at Pennsic. In AS 48, Magnús hvalmagi held the position of Baronial bard, but could not witness the Pennsic battles. Instead, he recounted the tale of the origin of the Snowberg army - the tale of a long-lost warrior of the north whose bravery inspired generations.


1. The world was joyous - wealth and peace were
found in all the lands - few were troubled.
But idle minds and idle souls
flourished in those fair fields of plenty.

2. A sin begat a greater sin,
and soon the ills of ailing hearts
tainted and tortured the track of men -
evils arose to wreak their doom.

3. Far to the west was found a cleftland
stretching deeply - still it is so named.
Deep in the belly of boiling earth
was birthed a beast of burning rage.

4. Of ache and hurt - of heart-woe and
sinful vengeance was sired the monster.
The enemy of man was eager to work
his schemes and plots through the sky-burner.

5. The worm of flames on wings of smoke
took to the sky and scoured the land.
It razed cities and ruined farmland -
its greed begat a grief profound.

6. Too little it owned - the land was ripe
and rich with prizes it possessed not.
Its wanting grew for want of grace,
and with it grew the rage of the wrathful demon.

7. To the East it gazed - a gainsome plot
it thought that place - a prize to claim.
From the air it loosed an oily flame-gout
and landed in the ruins it left behind.

8. Where trees once stood now stained earth
alone could be found - no life survived.
The woodlands rusted like weapons of iron
where the creature stopped - still they are so named.

9. To the north lay the linden-halls.
A cry went out - the oaks of battle
moved to reclaim their calloused soil!
Fierce the fighting - the flame-clash of
sturdy trees of trials was felt in
every land and in every hearth.
Your King calls out, come to his side!
Let Tiger’s roar rouse you to battle!

11. Concordia heed the call of war!
Bergental rise! To battle we go!
Your fame will not fade if this fray takes you
Deeds on this day endure for all time!


©2013 Peter Olsen