Full Version: A Bards musings from the end of the Tawny Man trilogy [spoilers][RotE][TawnyMan]
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So I and now 13 books into the Realm of the Elderlings, and have yet to venture anywhere else within the pages given to us by Robin or any of her later egos/pen names.

I have dabbled with prose before and occasionally turn out a passable poem, and inspired by the acts of Burrich towards the end of Fool's Fate (and to be honest by the man in general!), I have came up with this, and thought to share it, so I found this site... so here it is.

stop reading here if you haven't read Fool's Fate, find poorly metered poetry cringe-inducing, or don't want you own recollection of the end of the book ruined by my prose P

The Dragons of Aslevjal

With cold wet start of day again,
No one man knew that fate’s harsh chain
Would yield to us young dragon’s bane.

Ice Fyre free'd yet in his wake
The ice sang as it moved and quake,
Reveal white crones foul stony drake.

Her evil will that true dragons end,
Her ill formed stone dragon to rend
The queen dragon who just two defend.

Swift Witted boy though aim was true,
Arrows glanced every time he drew.
His life ‘tween dragons brown and blue.

Burrich cries and with one great bound,
With wit drives brown dragon to ground
Then knife shatters on stone fleshed hound.

The confounded beast then with one flick
Smites hero Burrich with one hard kick.
His son Swift true to name aims quick.

With last arrow made from odd wood
Once more his aim is proven good
Halts the mad creature where it stood.

With arrow deep set in its eye
The evil made creature starts to die.
Then silence pours up to the sky.

As stone beast died were men reborn,
Cold forged flesh filled with lives torn
From them so stone flesh could be born.

Though his flesh broken all should know
No man matched that which Burrich show,
Stood before son and dragon on snow.

The greatest act was wrought on that day
Of a mans love for his child in harms way
And willingly with his life did pay.

And from these acts of two men came
Dragons back to the world they claim.
And two names to sing with acclaim.
Clapping That was lovely. An ode to Burrich.  You ARE a minstrel.