QUEST FOR THE SEALS, PART I

"Come to the shrine," the cleric called,
and all of Valorn answered his summons.
In the temple at Milltown many gathered
to hear Elijah, heeding his words.

"In Caer Laleldon, in the King's chamber,
behind a door, a dread evil
is sealed with five seals, strong through the ages.
Now the seals fail, a fearful danger.
To help our land, heroes are needed,
to quest for the seals, scattered and hidden,
ere the door opens to death and destruction."

They heard his words, the heroes of Valorn;
swift-footed rogues ran to his aid,
and fierce enchanters with fire and lightning.
Clerics answered, clear-sighted healers,
and strong warriors with sword and shield.

The gods' wisdom gave word from on high,
of fearful sounds found fair to the hearer,
of beauty hidden in beholder's eye,
of weavers of thread, of woven garments
in bright colors, in blue and red.
The heroes hastened to Herman and Heralda,
to Margot's stall in Milltown's market,
Kris in Branishor, Balis in Fartown,
and the gaudy gowns of Garehk the Tailor.

But Shakl Kull, the clever enchanter,
pondered the clues: the cunning mage
sought for the source of silken cloth,
whence it first came, the well-woven web.
To the forest of N'rolav he found his way,
down to the caverns deep and dangerous,
where demon spiders dwell in darkness,
and Blue Crystal Guardians, bane of enchanters.

Through the clinging silk of the spiders' stronghold
he made his way, mighty in magecraft,
to the deepest level, the lair of the hatchlings.
Much woe he brought those wicked web-spinners,
until he heard the horrid keening,
the hatchlings' song, sweet to their mother.
In that foul place he found the treasure,
the holy Seal, the Heart's Fire.

Back to the shrine he brought the relic,
the blessed Seal, bright with power,
of strange metal, mystic and cold,
yet burning with fire of Ben the Mighty.

Now the first Seal was safe in the shrine.
Gleaming and fair, it glowed on the altar,
with vigilant watchers, Valorn's heroes.

If I should die today, in battle fall,
I would not mourn the end of mortal fight,
nor soul's departure, slain by greater might,
to other worlds, when Ben and Cory call.

My guild I would regret, its hearth and hall,
my dearest friends, companions day and night,
the fires of loyal kinship burning bright,
but this alone would grieve me most of all:

I never spoke my love. I never told
a word of love to him who fills my heart.
I never dared, for fear I should be spurned,
for well I know my love is not returned;
yet I will grieve, if I this world depart
and never offer him my heart to hold.