Winner Storytellersclub Contest

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Postmaster
Wizard
Posts: 972
Joined: 03 Mar 2010 22:37

Winner Storytellersclub Contest

Post by Postmaster » 20 Nov 2017 23:26

Originally posted by Goldbezie

Code: Select all

Greetings storytellers of the Donut.
Thank you for the stories you have written. It was a pleasure reading them. You
can read all the stories in the club in Pelargir.

The winner of the Contest is Zillian. She can contact me to collect her price.


One Night in Cirath, or Winter is Coming,
written by Zillian on April 29, 3018.

This is a translation of the epic poem sung
in the caravans of Cirath over the course
of the night when the Moon is New and the
Planet of Omens is in the House of the Cat...
"Winter is Coming"

Ragged tents and camels, baggage piled in heaps,
Night brings welcome cool and the Oasis sleeps,
Smoke rises from fire atop a distant dune,
drawing out the wisest under a fateful moon.

Across the open erg they came to the place,
where flickering firelight showed an ancient face,
and fear touched them all, infidel and bedouin,
An elder dark and mad or a mighty djinn?

"Harken if you dare, my little desert mice,
Those who seek a wish, must always pay the price.
Each should ponder well, stroking his ratty beard,
with but one wish to you and much to be feared."

So the Wise sat in thought -- thinking of the Land,
of lives scorched and blasted on a sea of sand,
of the Pitiless Sun, east, west, north and south,
of their thirsty people, living hand to mouth.

The Wise sat and thought -- and their spirits did yearn,
for the far distant realms where the seasons turn,
With dry croaking voices they cried out as one,
"Bring cool winds and water and shade from the Sun!"

"And so you have Chosen, and so it is Well,
Paradise can be wrought by means of a Spell,
On this Parchment, you must inscribe every word
for Winter wherever a tongue can be heard."

"I give you, Shata', lost from time out of mind,
for to start your List, but the rest you must find!"
So the Wise set out on the Quest, all humming,
with hearts aflame, singing "Winter is Coming".

Shata' !

On the Great Word Quest on the Caravan Road,
At the plague-ridden city my camel slowed,
Pity the poor souls who find themselves in Tyr,
iron bound and sold for gold for a fate most dire,
Bought from afar and chained in the Cirath sun,
They look not for rain and snow, for there are none,
Freedom's creed amidst the shouting and drumming,
....their deliverance chant: 'Winter is Coming'

Shata' Takurua Hiems Dalvi...

On the Great Word Quest, fearful far underground,
inky black darkness and a skittering sound,
hide from the hunters and pray under your breath,
in a desperate flight from old Undraeth,
For the Words of Winter, I came as a guest,
but found no succour in the Spider Queen's nest,
Dare you Her web to ask 'Winter is Coming?'
'Ware you her Fury that sets the silk thrumming.

Shata' Takurua Hiems Dalvi...
Zima Ziema Ovon Fuyu Talvi...

On the Great Word Quest on a dim forest trail,
I fought the undead gauntlet, bloody and pale,
Through the murky gloom I saw the Gates appear,
as night fell all around me, I reached Drakmere.
All of Raumdor fears the dying of the light,
darkness stirs the zombie, the ghoul and the wight.
The fall of each leaf weighs heavy on the Fort,
when Winter is Coming, and daylight grows short.

Shata' Takurua Hiems Dalvi...
Zima Ziema Ovon Fuyu Talvi...
Hiver Vetur Ukioq Ubusika...

On the Great Word Quest beneath the ocean blue,
So from the depths, comes Thalassia in view,
Breathing underwater, I am a stranger,
Prone at the Triton's Throne, I feel the danger,
King Atlas the Great has grown bitter and old,
Winter is Coming and his gills feel the cold,
The Army of the Tridents stands in neglect,
so the Lacedons rise to wreck ships unchecked.

Shata' Takurua Hiems Dalvi...
Zima Ziema Ovon Fuyu Talvi...
Hiver Vetur Ukioq Ubusika...
Winter Vinter Invierno Hemanta...

So the Great Word Quest comes to winter at Last,
In icy Terel, the old Parchment fills fast,
With so many Words, so bitterly spoken,
all over this Realm, all icebound and broken.

Our Foe, the Sun, is forever masked in cloud,
with light pale and grey, for this Dead Land, a Shroud!
It is here that unending Winter has Come,
the chill wind renders all Uncomfortably Numb.

To find all Winter's Words with nary a hitch,
We sought the old Wise Woman, we sought the Witch!
O'er deep drifts of Silver we crept through the Wood,
coughing and shaking, at her warm Hearth we stood.
Listed to Ragata and her Cat black-furr'd,
bony fingers snapped at the very first Word,
"Shata' ha ha! well Kitty, aint that a thing?
the truth of this cold magick lies with the King!"

Southwards past halflings quickening n' vicious,
we reached Bor-El, the Lazy and Lubricious,
For a moon and a day we joined the King's Court,
while bribing and fawning and watching him sport,
behind desert veils we yawned at his pleasure,
while seeking his weakness, gaining his measure,
"Shata'" brought shouts and rage, from the Royal drunk,
and confession and a charm from an old trunk.
The charm, of time past, forgotten and secret,
made from desert glass bearing words "El-Eret",
said to soothe the Prisoner... but we did quake,
standing before Bor-El's Bane... the terrible Drake.
Holding forth the amulet, it was passing queer,
for it seemed the Dragon's thoughts had become clear,
Spying the charm, the Wyrm started in remembrance,
but spying our Parchment, then came its Vengeance.

"Our sweet Paradise lost... turned to this Hell...
.. and the sorceror's Parchment used for the Spell !?"
'Winter is Coming...', all of El-Eret prayed,
begging for respite, they were cruelly betrayed!
Your icy Spell has for millenia reigned,
with the Realm frozen and its Guardian chained!
Ye be fools to come gloating, thinking Me tame,
The Sun burns in me still -- time to share the flame!"

Awake! awake! The morning Sun paints the sky red!
Strike the tents! Rouse the camels!
Another day has come!


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