Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Magic of this Bard's tale   

Here we begin our tale, 
Where mighty Cousland fell. 
From smoldering ashes, she rose.
To vanquish our ancient foes.

Bold in temper and deed,
A beauty rare to be seen. 
Of noble heart and blood was she. 
To be saving grace for Thedas it seems.

As hell rained fire,
upon this land dreary and dire.
Those who plot to steal the throne 
would fall in vengeance storm.

A warrior true to honor was she, 
Taking her place upon the wardens seat.
A vow to stand and fight, 
no matter the cost, even her life.

Though now remains just this bard's tale.
Told over some brewed ale,
Of this deed we speak, 
To honor she.

The one to stand, 
upon broken land. 
With sword in shaking hand. 
Saving every living man.

For this be not of fiction, we swear.
For all of Thedas had been there.
When with weary thrust, 
An ancient evil turned to dust.

Leaving standing the noble, the just. 
Warrior warden who'd saved all of us. 
Legends will say, 
She broke the bonds of death that day.

For upon this demon's death, 
Should have been her last breath. 
Alas, she stood with pride, 
by our king's side.

As evil did run and hide. 
Turning our despair into hope, 
Showing our lasting pride.