Tyre’Negoth:The Fall from Grace II

It was nothing but the brute force of Boneshredder’s hand

That stopped Serat from leaping into violent frenzy,

For his holy ways had long made his mind grow clouded

At the thought of something other than omniscient God,

Yet the other’s urged Acumenius to pay no heed,

And to tell the second story he had promised he’d tell,

He replied, “Gladly gentlemen, I shall proceed.”

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There is secrets held by wizard’s of my very sect, one

Before all others that you’ll know when story’s done,

It’s proof that Monmoth’s visions are entirely true,

For this tale is of Alistaire and Tarimundus, too,

Yet a third brother they did have, a great general old,

Named Sorlhab who served as general, it was often told

That Baelorik indeed sent all three to slay the beast,

Yet mighty Sorlhab, being of years the very least,

Was told by Tarimundus who feared death to all his men,

To remain at the base of Mt. Zeras and to wait for them

To return from battle and if they died to flee as fast,

As his horse could go, for Tyre’Negoth had rampant wrath

Which grew the minute a sword touched his armored scales,

And he’d hunt all those who attacked and never failed

To gut and curse all that stood against his evil will,

Thus, when two warriors came racing back over hill,

Sorlhab and his remaining men set off into the wood,

Yet, by then, Tyre’Negoth’s minions rose and stood

To block the path of ‘scape from the Tyre’Negoth’s fury,

Yet, Fate was kind that day, my friends, do not worry,

For Sorlhab with mighty blade cut down a horde or so

Of the armored shades, cutting path through his foe,

And dragging five men out along his side yet no end

Had they found quite yet, for Tyre’Negoth had contend

To slow the men with his army, and indeed they had,

Now he had gained upon them, his hunger driving him mad

With rage, and down he bore upon them all with speed,

Throwing Sorlhab and his five men from trusty steed.

All jumped to feet with blades in hand but to no avail,

Not a one of all their blades could pierce his scale

Save Sorlhab with mighty spear thrown with all his might,

Caught beneath scale, deep in flesh that very night,

The beast, for this was first blood ever drawn,

Screamed with agony as the men raced off, then were gone.

The dragon found them nevermore, yet revenge he found,

He flew to Baelorik’s fort and burnt houses to ground,

He ate and slew fifty peasants more, then off he rose,

Back to Mt. Zeras, and Baelorik, feeling his peoples woes

Cursed the three brothers who went off to slay

The dragon, and, unluckily, it twas the very next day

That Sorlhab and all his men marched through the gates

To find, guards ready, armed to take them to their fate.

The men saw the damage done and knew they were to die,

Yet Sorlhab stood before the town and with angry cry,

Called out, “How now! For forty years we guard the gates

Against all odds, yet a single failure seals our fate?

Baelorik, listen true to what I swear to you this day,

My brothers are dead and all their men, sent to slay

The beast in your name! Now you seek the death of me

To pay the price for all this death, the price should be

The death of you for meddling with the cursed beast,

Tis you who deserves punishment, and I the least!

Call guards back or I shall cut them down and flee,

Only to return to shame you, tis my prophecy!

One day when all hope is lost you shall rise to find

The dragon dead by my hand and more, you are blind!

The guards attacked and the six gave fight for a while,

Yet all were captured and killed the records say, I’ll

Tell you true, I disbelieve the tale’s end myself,

For not a book upon the magistrate’s nor dungeon’s shelf

Tells of six admitted to the prison within that week!

Nor at the doctor’s or the surgeon’s, for I did seek

To find proof of Sorlhab’s tragic death that day,

Yet none I found, the youngest brother lives, I say,

Perhaps he waits for us to arrive at the mountain base,

Within the stone ruins of the old Temple of the Priests,

It is here, tis said, that Tyre’Negoth’s powers wane,

He cannot see within nor touch it for fear of Godly pain.

Sorlhab dwells here, deep in thought, he awaits our aid,

And together we shall ride to Mt. Zeras with just blade,

And slay Tyre’Negoth and end the curse upon his head,

Now my tongue grows tired, thus someone take my stead!”

Thus the tales ended as night fell and all slept sound,

Thinking of the stories of Tyre’Negoth and Sorhlab.