Tyre’Negoth: The Faithful

While the pale moon began it’s lazy descent,

The seventh warrior of the regal eight took his turn,

Age had hardly chance to wear upon his skin,

Indeed younger even then the romantic was this man,

Yet his hazel eyes spoke of wisdom and profundity,

While his smile would disarm the most dreadful beast.

All in white with golden crosses stood this cleric

Of middle height, gaunt in body yet broad in shoulder,

With skin that seemed to see light first this day,

A silver breast plate with religious sybmols housed him,

Silver gauntlets and plated boots and belt as well,

A silver spiked-helm sat upon the oaken table near him,

A silver sword engraved by smith strapped on his back,

Sheathed in scabbard with crosses trailing its length.

Finally, a silver shield with holy cross emblem lay

In full view of all to see, shimmering as if nere used.

The warrior had two companions of odd disposition,

The first a priest of but flesh and bone, no meat at all,

Who surveyed the hall with fast-roving, frightened eyes.

The other a dark-skinned monk, bald-headed and blue eyed,

Clad in red-leather armor with silver studs that shined,

A oak staff with thick, round head lay across his lap

Of red silk pants that bagged around and sandals

That fit his feet snuggly with leather toe coverings.

“I see assembling before my eyes a clergy lest my eyes

Decieve me so! What’s this then? Has God sent thee?

What land sends religious men to fight for warriors?

I mean no ill will, but I can see the insanity of this,

Speak now man, save me my dignity for I have had much ale

And thus my words begin to slur and I desire not to be

The wearer of another crown, the fool’s one namely!”

Baelorik bellowed from his seat as all laughed on

At the king’s good-intentioned words of curiosity.

The young man let out a brilliant, piercing laugh:

“Your eyes do not deceive thee, Baelorik the Grand!

The far lands of Sabar send me as their choice,

Yet fear not, though my looks paint me without skill,

My faith shall guide my hand upon the battlefield.

I’ve spent the four months since your request,

Training with sword and shield against the finest knights

In all of Sabar! Thus besting each and every one

By the day I departed to reach this banquet hall tonight!

These weapons carried are gifts from Lord Isacus,

Thus they shine so perfectly, tested true but not by me.

My companions here shall serve the party as well as I,

This priest is learned on salves and ointments many,

Thus he’ll cure us of all woes that Acumenius cannot,

While Ponchus, my silent friend, is wand’ring monk,

Wise beyond his years and fast and subserviant, too!

You allowed us anything we did desire, thus these weapons

And my fine fellows I shall take, nothing more I require.

My gaze has met each of my allies with great pleasure,

And I see that each offers a strength the others haven’t.

The valiant shall lead with a tested iron will,

The romantic’s poetry shall entertain and heal our hearts

While the poacher has traversed the lands in shadow,

The judge’s fair mind shall keep all our head’s level

As Acumenius fills them with wisdom beyond our years,

Elden shall guide us through all the dangers of the wild,

And I hope to offer faith when the path is hard,

Our last friend I’m sure will offer his own skills,

Thus I’d like to put forth a small prayer if none oppose,

To call upon the angels to watch us on our journey!”

The cleric’s hands rose to begin his prayer as all heads

Bowed with eyes closed, awaiting the eloquent words

That the youth let flow in honeysuckle torrents:

“Great Father and all who serve in immortal heaven high,

Shield us from hellish dangers and keep watchful eye

Upon each member who undertakes this daunting task,

For strength, faith unwav’ring, and conviction all I ask

Of you to bestow within our good souls and worthy hearts,

In return we shall not tempt our spirit in whole or part.

We thank you for all you give and all you’ve given,

Great Father and all who serve in immortal heaven.”

With the prayer at its end, Baelorik clapped heavily:

“Good words, man! How odd it is I think now,

That my eyes perceived truthfully but my mind was wrong!

You three are as grand as any other who has spoke,

I commend thee for not holding grudge ‘gainst me!

Now, enough of praise, let’s continue our revelry!”