Post by The Seer on Jan 13, 2004 14:24:47 GMT -5
The sounds of the tavern suddenly dropped away, vision began to tunnel as if a deep fog had crept in without the knowledge of the seer. As the fog cleared and the busy sounds of the tavern dropped away, they were replaced with sounds of battle. The seer was found atop a hill, cries of pain, were heard below. The sky was lit red as though it had absorbed the blood of the wounded. The seer focused on the sky, dragons flew colors of blood red, and sapphire blue, diving into the battle, then back to bloodstained clouds.
A sound caught the seer's ear, the mournful cry of big cat and wolf filled the air, human screams echoed in the middle of the fight.
Eyes lifted to see a child with hair so bright as to make the observer think it had absorbed the sun itself. The child, was more than child. Older than body belied, the body being one of trapped between the play of childhood, and the passion of manhood. Blue eyes cast upon the scene torn between dreams of self and desire to serve. Pained at the death of friend and people. Pained by betrayal, yet in its depths relieved that the end neared.
Women crowned in shades of ruby and fire watched and wept, yet stood sword in hand to bring their part of the end. Beast fought along side human, a young lion smeared with blood heard his mother's cries, filled with longing to return to her side he fought on. Her smell in his nostrils.
A wolf man stood with noble green eyes, his face wet with blood and tears, uncertainty, expectancy, fear, and love wracked his being. All questioned the path they had chosen. All mourned, all loved, all fought with noble intent.
The horizon broke and standing in the suddenly bright light was a man of average build who danced on the edge of insanity. Beloved and strong. The wolf man was drawn to him, a woman armored in the scales of a dragon with eyes precious stone with pupils of a cat, crowed with ruby, bowed before him. From the west came a woman covered in tattoos to stand at his side. A dragon of bright blue, landed behind him, changing swiftly to a man holding in his hand a Celtic sword, he swore his allegiance to the realm.
Loud keening was heard at the number of dead that lay upon the ground. Those living were exiled to the sound of a horn. It was then shown that the fate of this land was tied to the fate of all of Rhydin. The Golden Myst began to swirl, and the seer was drawn back to the tavern, to the murmur of the other patrons. Shock was on their faces at the fate that had been shown them.
In the name of the Great Goddess, and by the power of the Horned Man, To the Glory of Land. As crops are rotated so that more may grow, and wheat is threshed so that the chaff is separated, Metal is melted so that gold may be beautiful and the sword may be strong. This was given this 28th day of December.
As she wishes it so may it be.
A sound caught the seer's ear, the mournful cry of big cat and wolf filled the air, human screams echoed in the middle of the fight.
Eyes lifted to see a child with hair so bright as to make the observer think it had absorbed the sun itself. The child, was more than child. Older than body belied, the body being one of trapped between the play of childhood, and the passion of manhood. Blue eyes cast upon the scene torn between dreams of self and desire to serve. Pained at the death of friend and people. Pained by betrayal, yet in its depths relieved that the end neared.
Women crowned in shades of ruby and fire watched and wept, yet stood sword in hand to bring their part of the end. Beast fought along side human, a young lion smeared with blood heard his mother's cries, filled with longing to return to her side he fought on. Her smell in his nostrils.
A wolf man stood with noble green eyes, his face wet with blood and tears, uncertainty, expectancy, fear, and love wracked his being. All questioned the path they had chosen. All mourned, all loved, all fought with noble intent.
The horizon broke and standing in the suddenly bright light was a man of average build who danced on the edge of insanity. Beloved and strong. The wolf man was drawn to him, a woman armored in the scales of a dragon with eyes precious stone with pupils of a cat, crowed with ruby, bowed before him. From the west came a woman covered in tattoos to stand at his side. A dragon of bright blue, landed behind him, changing swiftly to a man holding in his hand a Celtic sword, he swore his allegiance to the realm.
Loud keening was heard at the number of dead that lay upon the ground. Those living were exiled to the sound of a horn. It was then shown that the fate of this land was tied to the fate of all of Rhydin. The Golden Myst began to swirl, and the seer was drawn back to the tavern, to the murmur of the other patrons. Shock was on their faces at the fate that had been shown them.
In the name of the Great Goddess, and by the power of the Horned Man, To the Glory of Land. As crops are rotated so that more may grow, and wheat is threshed so that the chaff is separated, Metal is melted so that gold may be beautiful and the sword may be strong. This was given this 28th day of December.
As she wishes it so may it be.