At the Walls of Puddleby by Torin The Orga armies gather east -- A storm of Spite and Fury beast. Red Hemlock lightning cracks the air, And Shaman fires singe our hair. Their vermine allies never far, Persistent death with jaws ajar. Silver, dark, and tawny too, Their furs be bloodstained when we're through. To Darshak Blades along the beach Shall we a steely lesson teach! And with each blow a cry of "BEER!" Keeps at bay all trace of fear. The restless dead stir from their graves. Foul magic drives those necro-slaves. They strive to conquer all that's good, To blacken field and hill and wood. Though many exiles fallen lie, Our healers raise them, by and by, To join the battle once again Renewed in spirit, health, and ken. The moonstone glow -- without that light, Soon would fail our strength to fight. Glorious is the touch of life! A bulwark in these times of strife! Fen, Human, Halfling, Sylvan, Zo, Thoom, and Dwarf -- all freely go Together, bound by friendship's ties. In unity our triumph lies. Birth of a Healer by Bor The world erupts In a cacophony of light and noise Blinded, I realize I must still be alive For surely the pain of my burning skin Would have faded if I were dead. The last I recall Was the battle we lost Our precious books in flames And the smell of cooked flesh Still in my nostrils Greetings my child And all the pain fades away In a voice filled with more love, Care and kindness than An entire lifetime could ever know You have done well, my child I offer you a choice A choice you say, between what - and Hey! Just who are you, and why am I Even talking to you in this place With only bright lights that no longer hurt my eyes You have learned much, But not yet enough. I could use you still, Especially if you can learn What I believe there is inside you Am I dead? Are you the goddess? That my child is why I have Such fondness for you. The ever-working mind And its ability to grasp The obvious in the face of impossibility Ok, okay, no need to make fun This is all a bit new to me To the best of my knowledge I’ve Never been dead. You spoke of a choice? Yes my child, you have lived A good life, full of learning and books. These are worthwhile endeavors but As I’m certain you’ve learned, A head full of books won’t win a war. The evil gains in strength with each passing day, But all is not hopeless. For there are many souls like yours That fight, strive and breathe for nothing But to see the sun shining bright, On the Empire’s last day. Your choice then is this: Accept the reward Which is yours if you wish it. Rest in happiness and love With your fallen friends and family Or go back and learn To keep this from happening again. There is no choice for me, I can still smell them, Those I couldn’t save, and Behind my eyes, there is still the curl Of the pages that fed the fire. What did I do wrong? What must I learn? Your quest for knowledge is good And virtuous and pure, But a book burns in flame And it can’t block a sword. You must learn to fight In whatever way you can Be strong, and brave And remember, fight not for hate But always for love. Yes, Dear goddess yes! First I feel the grass, itchy and wet Then the wonderful smell Of the damp forest, and the warmth As the sun dances across my face. I see, and rejoice, for I am alive Fight For love The words bring me back. I remember, it is not a dream And I have a second chance. Perhaps this time I can keep them all alive The Destroyer Cometh by Lunaria Fisherman and Knight Stumbling along Swiggin off flask Roarin out song Dark figure appears Gives a crook of her finger "What's this?" thinks the Knight "A Babajaga ringer?" Fisherman peers Gives a hiccup or two Sez "ooh babe yer hot" "Wanna taste of my brew?" Dark figure she smiles With a hand on her hip Green hair becomes flame Knight bites on his lip Knight elbows the Human "She doth appear pleasing" "Perhaps we might share The rites of the season?" Fisherman nods And stumbles on towards her She takes a step back and beckons them southward Quickly glancing around "No one must see! They lurch to the Tor For a quickie or three What happened next No one really knows About the two goats in rut And the witch in repose Take turns, and share? Or take her at once? Were they kind and considerate? Or sneering when done? All that we know Bout this evening of vice Is twins were conceived Neither dad has been nice The fisherman fishes Knight he feigns shock That any would think He'd partake in "such rot" But goatish ways Aren't oft forgotten His leering pomposity Spells Honour turned rotten Exile Chitra In fire drowned, the darkness downs About my soul, the coldness coils. Rememberance of lingering frowns, That held the weight of numbing toil. The rain swept panes reflect your face. The ache of knowing you're not there. My tears (cold friendship) march in haste, And endless days without the care Of arms that once encircled me, And kept me safe. Oh back I'm for, If time so ran, back when I was free, yet forward still, I god ignored, Bereft of harmony, I'm still enduring yet, their bitter will. The Fifth Son by Arod When the Inquisitors exiled me I was my Father's fifth son-- Charged by tradition to be a scholar To know the forbidden tongue To know our true past To keep our family history sacred. When I awoke on Puddleby's beach I was my Father's fifth son-- Charged by tradition to give way to my elders To hunt only by their leave To take a junior daughter as my mate To live a quiet life teaching secrets. When I took the healer's stone I was my Father's fifth son-- Charged by tradition to keep the faith To heal shut bloody slashes To soothe black bruises To straighten splintered bones. When all my flesh burned away My Father's fifth son died-- Taintless, I was charged To grow strong in the way of the sword To cut the life out of my enemies To live with no past, no morrow. The Fisher-Thoom's Tale by Healery A pleasant summer's day; a fishing trip. A pensive Thoom, the tiller in his grip. His uncle and his sister at the lines When one goes taut and points at distant spines. "It's a Tho'Lin!" his sister cries with glee, And rushes to retrieve it from the sea. "Another fish," thinks Tamarin, and sighs, A far-off look reflected in his eyes. The winds and seas care little for one Thoom Who'd rather be off reading in some room Than fishing, yet again, as oft before. A sudden gust, a mind not on its chore -- The boom comes 'round and knocks him to the waves. The boat o'erturns. His skillful uncle saves The family's catch; his sister grabs the mast; But he himself, not thinking very fast, Half-conscious, reaches for a passing line -- The one on the Tho'Lin. He chokes on brine. Before they even recognize his plight, The mighty fish has towed him out of sight. Of sister, uncle, village, fish, and past, This bookish Thoom for years has seen the last. A gentle healer greets him as he wakes; He seems at last recovered, though he makes An effort to recall his past, and fails. (Too bad he couldn't read the Puddl'by Tales.) Four weeks ago, he learns, he washed ashore, Disheveled, soaked, his every muscle sore. His tattered robe hung on a half-starved frame, His mind awash in waves of grief and shame. The body's ills are easier to heal Than guilty conscience put on even keel. Still half in shock, he sets forth into town; He walks on land now, but his sorrows drown. The tavern-keepers grow to know him well, As do the healers, answering his yell When, drunk again, he trips and cannot rise, And rats and vermine swarm him where he lies. He cares for little else but wine and beer, Lost in his sea of pain. Full half a year He spends in mud and sorrow wallowing, Until one chilly day in early spring He chances to be sitting in the inn That Kandrus keeps, still grieving for his kin. "Good Thoom," that lightsome scholar says, "I think "You feel you lost your past life in the drink. "But now you risk your future there as well. "I don't know why you grieve, but I can tell "That what you're seeking won't be found in here." Then Kandrus clears away the mugs of beer, Smiles enigmatically, and turns away. But as he leaves, the Thoom can hear him say, "If I were you, I'd go see Hekus soon. "Your spirit may find solace in the Moon." Then Tamarin looks up, through his despair, And comes to a decision, then and there. He visits Hekus early the next morn And of that visit new resolve is born. Still hoping to recover all he's lost, He searches on, no matter what the cost, But now he also essays to repay In kind all kindness shown, as best he may. Gone to Sea, by Tayra My feet tread the sand of the sea shore My gaze roves across endless sea My sorrow my nights shall belabor Until you return Love to me I shall not be gone but a fortnight You said with your arms around me I see your eyes glow in my mind-sight And pray you'll return home to me I cast my tears into the ocean My Love so to ward you at sea I wish I could know what devotion Compels you to sail far from me Regardless of sorrow I'm facing My heart pure contentment shall see If over the waves you are racing To bring your love home safe to me Love's Awakening by Sleipnir Of Tanglewood, that gentle Meadow, light and flower'y plain, where first to breathless sight my love appeared, for hours could I sing, to make with pealing voice the forest ring. And in that darkling western hut where spawn the lowly vermin, there from dusk 'til dawn my love and I would hunt. And thus my heart did learn to love, and loving thus, to part with her did fill my heart with sweetest sorrow. For though I knew full well that on the morrow would we meet again, and hunt once more, yet in the time apart my eyes full sore did weep. In days to come I heard her name cried out, as 'pon the southern beach she came to dance the fierce and mighty Rockodile, but dancing not then well, would fall, and while she fallen lay, to there with scant delay and beating heart went I. What I did say I now can scarce recall, confusion reigned, but I do well recall how much it pained and tore my heart when my beloved fair seemed heedless to my lonely, piteous stare. And so, despairing of her love I fell upon the sand at her right foot and well I kissed her dainty shoe. With trembling tone I told to her how lost, bereft, alone I be without her love. Her gentle gaze lay soft upon my brow, and in amaze I heard those words, which in their manner fair did burst my heart with joy and banish care. And from that night, as well I might I serve my love's desires. In happiness, two lovers blessed by love's devour'ing fires And nevermore shall I be poor, enriched by love's sweet charms. As I do weep with joy to sleep in my beloved's arms night visions by Kren'daa The cries in the night echo through my dreams. They lie battered before me in never ending streams. I run to help yet I am pulled back by the weed entwining me "let me free!" I plead as I watch them bleed. Friends go beyond my reach, beyond my touch, beyond the glows. I lie on the red sand beach watching as their life flows. How long will the glow last? How strong will they be? Gaia,I beg, set me free. Let me heal the hurt before me! Warmth flows through me. I look up through tears and see a smiling face, I lose all my fears. The Old Mirror by Katan I stand before the mirror of old, 'tis oval in shape, and plated in gold. I peek into the portal gate, The Sun is setting, 'tis getting late. I hear a snap of twig behind where I stand, Turning, I see a Maha crouching in the sand. My drawn sword glimmers in the light of the setting Sun. From afar it looks this battle will not be won. The Maha pounces with speed unmatched, Claw meets blade with an awesome clash. As dust clears, I find I'm still alive. I sheath my sword, my hope revived. I turn once more to face the golden gate, Unsure of what now will be my fate. Stepping through the swirling glass... Will this action be my last? On Top of the Tower by Tam On top of the tower I sit every day waiting for orga to come charging my way. I wave as you pass me from where I sit in the shade of the catapult that protects us from the warlocks and rage. And then one day it happens while I'm away from my post; the orga attack us and the catapult's toast. The orga just took it leaving behind dead and the maimed the pieces I help gather as part of the Healer's Brigade. Phineas--I found him lying dead on the ground helpfully I gather the parts lying around. Xantcha's good eyes spot his lost hands and his head then 12 of us gather to raise him from the dead. Sorties are sent out to track our lost catapult but they continue to run from nasty orga in molt. Lightning is showering all 'round my furry self leaving my lying just south of an E.L.F. Bizob comes running then leaves in a rush when four or five zappers chase him into the brush. So I lie here and ponder the cost of our lost device wishing I'd chosen to stay home and raise mice. My tale isn't over, it's still being played out today but the catapult remains lost and Katpus ran away. It's a terribly ill wind that blows in no good but at least now we have a builder for our wood. The Point of Sitrom Rogir's Cane by Michael Aridfox "Falinea! Guide this old fool!" he cried out as we left on our way toward that place. "I've been gone a long time, know the way," he inquired, "to that grove in the woods?" Assured him I did, that I would lead the way. I had travelled there oft long ago. Embarassed myself in the old fellow's eyes, I was sure. I could not find the path. He muttered of youngsters these days, though himself at a loss to proceed. Were his eyes failing now, had his memory waned? But his years don't explain me inept. Tree after tree I fumbled about, while his wrinkles spelled sadness and doubt wherever I looked. He pondered the meaning, the loss of the grove. "It was always a beautiful place..." I searched for pride's sake, but began to despair quietly that the way might be gone. An unsettled fear settled in on me then, that I cared even, cared this much still. My mind fled to hours and days when I prayed and I pondered and served and rejoiced. Once thought entered old sacred space, my foot found the place it should step, used to step. "It's HERE! Old Man, over here!" I called out. With a cackling glee he drew near. Sudden spriteliness entered his gait and he passed me up, hobbling less, walking stick speeding through. I myself slowed a bit, stood there outside, saw regrets tower over the trees. Was it sin, shame or she that slew something in me such that I had so abandoned this path? I pushed thoughts aside, swallowed pride with a gulp and stepped into the grove's sacred space. The elder one beamed as he leaned on his walking-stick, looking for spring to arrive. "Where could that lovely lady have gone?" he asked me as if I should know. No answer would come, but the old man approached, his cane poking through icy crusts. The crackling sound of his voice, the weight of his words breaking old frozen stillness startled me. Beneath bushy white eyebrows lifted my way, his inquiry's bitter cold bites despite the delight in his voice. "She certainly has left a mark on the lands." I stared at his knotted old hands gripping the cane. He repeated it twice to me then, "Perhaps she did not enjoy being heralded as a Goddess." Perhaps she did not enjoy being heralded as a Goddess. Puddleby Seasonal Haiku by Usagi Yojimbo Yellow butterfly floating over the road; Spring is beginning Strange mountains stand against the sky the night coming White moon growing over the water summer dream Lost leaves floating against the sky autumn time White lake stands with the snow winter time Puddleby city sanctuary of exiles under attack Sons of Orion twelve stars shining in the sky Long live the Hunters!! Flame, by Shatuga Silver stars shining in midnight peace Stirrings in shadows cease In stealth you rise Gentle wind bends the tender limbs throbbing of the ember dims I meet your eyes Come rest yourself beside my fire The rising flame of our desire counters its demise As darkness folds its arms around us Our love at last has found us Our sweet surprise Stand by your clan, by Vagile Sometimes its hard to be a exile Givin' all your coins to just one clan You'll have poor times, while the treasury has rich times Savin' for things you don't understand Stand by your clan Give them two metals to forge with And yell their battle cry loudly Through snells cold and lonely Stand by your clan And show the world you love them Keep giving all the coins you can Stand by your clan Stand by your clan And show the world you love them Keep giving all the coins you can Stand by your clan But if you love them you'll enrich them Even though they're hard to understand And if you love them, Oh, be proud of them Cause after all they're your clan Stand by your clan When Outcast reviles them And other clans grow stronger When clan hunts end in departs Stand by your clan And show the world you love them Keep giving all the coins you can Stand by your clan Stand by your clan And show the world you love them Keep giving all the coins you can Stand by your clan Hedonist's Creed Darshak traditional Fill up my mug and give me lots of head; The bubbles make me tingle going down. I live a life of pleasure bed to bed, And don't care if I rouse the bloomin' town. From dawn to dusk I busily with sword Pursue a view of fauna slightly skewed. Then dusk to dawn I surely am not bored; With heady lust for life am I imbued! So gather 'round, me hearties, celebrate With casks of wine and sing a rousing song! All earthly pleasures ever dedicate Yourselves and countless others to prolong. Fill up my cup; the tab's completely paid, Pursuit of happiness the goal I've laid. Lunaria by Lunaria A full spring moon They met, they danced Firelight in their eyes Into the dark, entranced Forbidden by some Natural to others The canopy bowed down While they bowed to each other A meeting, a parting The ritual of Spring The Dance of the Wood The Gift of the Trees The belly soon swelled The Mate most displeased Steadfast she held to The Rites for the Trees Thus she departed Kinward went she Her belly, soft smile Only reason they'd need Babe borne in the woods Dark skin, flame tressed Unlike him, unlike her Yet to her no distress The kinfolk delighted By this gift from the trees Mingling of wood, moon and fire Forest Child is she. Hard Fallen by Manx Adua gasps in pain beyond moonstone power dragged upon a chain past the east wall tower healers try in vain potion of uli flower? sunstone shakes and groans "nearly dead in town" six and twenty stones eventually gather round Adua quietly moans but not another sound sun begins to rise Adua hasn't yet every healer cries townies place their bets hope fades from her eyes Horus sends regrets