The Warden of the Cerulean Spire

By: Kyleath Posted on: August 31, 2008

The orange metal glowed in the dying light,

The hammer sent sparks flying into the night,

The ring of anvil echoed through the Spire,

And the walls glinted with the glare of the fire.

The Warden drew upon the plate,

Runes that could decide his fate.

He drew Berkana, the lion that healed,

And Gebu, the golden shield.

A thief not seen beneath his shroud,

Only a shadow amongst the crowd.

The thief had taken plenty of gold,

And other things he quickly sold.

The frantic call came to defend,

So he called upon his winged friend,

The keen-eyed falcon of piercing blue,

Tracked the thief as it flew.

The Knight whistled a high-pitched note,

And came a horse with shining coat.

The Warden mounted his warhorse,

Riding along the Tunnel's course.

An Azure dragon shown upon his tabard

As he drew his swords from the scabbards.

He had found him in a Northern field,

But the thief refused to yield.

The Runeblade the Warden proudly wields,

Razed the serpent's invisible shields.

He swings his swords in a wide arc,

And they quickly find their mark.

The falcon quickly dives and wheels,

Ripping flesh with talons of steel.

The shining swords slash and stab,

And finish off with a twist of a jab.

To the Vashnars the knight returned,

To the place where he had learned,

Of Chivalry, Forging and Runelore,

And to keep the Ethos at their core.

Though the scars will some day fade,

And the peace had been made,

He'll return when time is dire,

The Warden of the Cerulean Spire.