Ballad of the High Priestess

by Tirost Armagna

Like a moggot in a corpse,
Like a sickness getting worse,
Like a rat that spreads disease,
The necroman Nuskaro creeped

To the warmage tower high,
And murdered many with a sigh –
So bored and lonely with that life
For all good things he sacrificed.

Then, like a candle in the dark,
Like a breeze when lost at sea,
Like the singing of my heart,
Like the autumn light through trees,

Came radiant Khaelyn, robed in white,
Unafraid, with power blessed:
Her keen eyes flashed and sought with wrath
The one who those of life bereft.

Behind her came a shouting mob,
With torches chanting, ‘Bring him down!’
Khaelyn raised her fairest hand,
And gestured at the necroman,

But Nuskaro, wreathed in magic black,
Dispersed the light and would have laughed,
For his arisen then attacked,
But Khaelyn was not driven back!

O! Her skill in combat fierce!
Though blows were smote by minion cursed,
Khaelyn moved with grace and strength,
And Nuskaro failed to ascertain

The emboldened crowd that hemmed him in,
Whose courage flared to watch Khaelyn,
The Priestess High of King Meraud,
Who from his thrown gave regal nod,

To see his chosen one full raze
This terror from fair Elanthi’s face.
The crowd upon Nuskaro fell,
As Khaelyn dueled the rotting shell,

They dragged the fallen Olvi lost
To th’ Temple to pay for all he cost
The people free who suffered most,
But for Khaelyn could no justice boast,

Yet let all who hear my soaring song
Raise a cup for Khaelyn strong!
For all peace, and love, and happy strains
Follow in fair Khaelyn’s train!

Her deeds now join the timeless song
To inspire those among us young,
And time shall not forget the elf
Who forsook not those who sought her help!