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Facets
Facets
A book of medium size, bound in plain light leather. Inside it are the words, written in a clear hand, "This book belongs to Topaz."
Friday, 21 August 2009

THE BALLAD OF KELLEN CRYPTBANE


A farmer was my father, and a farmer I was born,
to tend the growing grain and plow the fields in early morn,
Though life was hard I found it good, until my middle years,
when evil took my true love's life and left me only tears.

My farm was left in ashes, and I was left alone,
with blackened fields and emptiness where life and love had grown,
I saw no way before me, no light to guide my path,
with nothing left inside me but bitterness and wrath.

CHORUS
Kellen Cryptbane is my name;
the god Ben's word I do proclaim.

A cleric came to comfort me, when I was deep in pain;
her voice was low and gentle, like a soft and soothing rain.
Her words brought more than comfort, for within me flared a spark;
I swore to go adventuring, and fight against the dark.

I swore to go adventuring, but knew not sword or shield;
what need had I of battle-lore when plowing in a field?
And would I be a cleric, with healing in my hands,
or would I be a warrior, the wall that shields these lands?

CHORUS

I strove as an initiate until I learned to fight,
and thought to be a cleric, a bearer of the light.
Through many marcs and seasons I studied, worked, and trained,
till finally the day arrived when I would be ordained.

My mentor led me humbly to the temple in the sands;
we knelt before the altar with uplifted eyes and hands;
but when she spoke the holy words, the consecrating rite,
the gods themselves would not accept my presence in their sight.

CHORUS

I stood within the temple, my profession unfulfilled;
no word or sign came from the gods to tell me what they willed;
I left and sought a warrior, to seek that way instead;
perhaps the gods were telling me the path that I should tread.

But when the warrior brought me to the temple by her side,
her efforts were to no avail; my prayers were still denied
The gods still took no heed of me, as if I were not there,
an empty field, a barren rock, a figment in the air.

CHORUS

I sought the sage in Milltown, with a sad and weary face.
"Come search your heart and soul," he said, "within this holy place."
And at his word I knelt and prayed, till inspiration came:
I heard a voice from heaven's height, calling out my name --

the voice of him who holds the world of Trinald in his sight,
who keeps Sunrifter in its path, the marcs of day and night,
for whom the fields and forests grow, the trees with leaves unfurled,
the voice of Ben the Mighty, the Builder of the World.

CHORUS

I found myself within a room, not knowing where or when,
and filled with awe and wonder, looked upon the face of Ben;
and yet I somehow stood my ground before that Mighty One,
as if he were an elder, and I a farmer's son.

He questioned me and tested me, to know my faith was pure,
my soul was strongly fashioned, and my intent was sure.
He asked me what profession I for myself would claim;
I asked to be a cleric, serving Valorn in his name.

CHORUS

I blinked, and I was standing in Milltown once again.
"Go to the desert temple," now spoke the voice of Ben.
And so the cleric followed me, once more to seek my fate;
the pack upon my shoulders now bore a heavy weight.

Once more before the altar we lifted hands in prayer,
and felt the presence of the gods like light upon the air;
my being was transfigured and I could barely stand;
my face across the sky was painted by the gods' own hand.

CHORUS

I stood there stunned and shaken, and slowly looked to see
the meaning of the heavy weight the gods had placed on me.
It was the Godfist Warhammer, of golden glowing stone;
a thing of strength and beauty, with godly light it shone.

The voice of Ben the Builder spoke, and bade me use it well,
and from that day I live my life by word and deed to tell
the power of the gods, who give their blessings to this land:
a cleric of Ben's Order, with his hammer in my hand.

CHORUS

Now you who hear my story, if your life is dark with pain,
and all your fields are burned till only ashes still remain,
and if your empty heart has filled with sorrow through the years,
with nothing left but deep despair, no words but only tears,

Remember 'tis the gods that send the rain upon the fields
till from the barren garden, fruit and flowers are revealed;
and as the driest desert sands give way to clearest spring,
the heart that now is broken will again rejoice and sing.

CHORUS
Kellen Cryptbane is my name;
the god Ben's word I do proclaim.


Topaz

Topaz posted @ 12:42 - Link - comments (2)
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