The eight Factions - Poem

in #fantasy7 years ago (edited)


A lonely wanderer found once, this poem, written in the sand.

Rasan:
There is a King, down in the south,
His clear white veil is sneaking down,
and looking for the countrie named
as Avenor a land that claimed,

The great and mighty Halls of Magic,
The King is called "Rasan the just".
The story of the King is tragic,
but now he brings the law the trust.

Junit:
And in the west, on hilly ground
red mountains growing from beneath,
A mage named Junit tamed and found,
a Goblinboy, armed to his teeth.

And so he suddenly became,
The ruler of this savage folk,
His great and also famous name,
sounds now at least as strong hard stroke

Nemo:
And on the southern Island lives,
A cautious man called Nemo Quin,
He never takes, he always gives,
Creator of the peace he´s been

But now he is surrounden by,
so many war addicted Mages,
He has to be the strong smart guy,
That he was been in his old ages.

Eridar:
But we need also have a look,
into the farest widest east,
It´s Eridar, reading a book,
about the taiming of some beasts,

The knowledge is his closest friend,
And he knows more then all of you,
It is a lifetime he did spend,
on gaining anything he knew.

Theron:
but close to him, darkness is rising,
Theron is the Mage of Pain,
His realm of blackness is advising,
you to escape, cause he will slain,

not only every little part,
of your risible family,
but also everyone you start,
to have a little cup of tea.

Ornis:
The Sun sends burning beams to earth
If you are in the realm of sand,
the heating desert giving birth,
to the world richest merchant man.

His name is Ornis, last name Throne,
He´s owning everything inside,
his desertkingdom, every stone,
and human beeings, dead or alive.

Lamuna:
But in between, there is a forest,
Lamuna is the keeper here,
The brave and also the most modest,
mage on Terinca my dear,

She leads the oldest forest souls,
and she is ready to defend this
migthy, wise and ancient, ghosts,
no matter if you will resist.

Silas:
But still the nothern lands are missing,
the horns of Freedom calling you,
It´s the green mage, Silas is hissing
the flag of liberty, it´s true

he is Creator of the strong,
and famous fungus populace,
and on his lips there is the song
of far more older prophetees


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