Jarl Ulfric, called the Storm-Cloak, rode a wain to Helgen-Town;
He wore no crown, he wore no helm, he held no scepter high,
But bound and gagged instead, prepared to meet his mortal end
And Sovngarde awaits the one that bravely went in life.
He came there as a dragon who had slain his brother liege,
He came there with a dragon, and a dragon saved his life.
It came upon his captors and confusion set him free;
The other dragon fled, for it had also faced its fate.
The Saviour-Dragon Ulfric saw no more; the other now
Was filled with awful purpose to protect his native land,
But Ulfric-Dragon rent in two the people they would save.
As man fought man, and brethren all, the Dragon-Born could see
What they could not, and put himself in bonds to other men
And prayed that Talos granted strength to see them to their prize.
His aim was true, his purpose strong, his strength the city breached
Of Windhelm, and the stronghold where the mighty Ulfric lay.
The Dragon-Born and those that leashed him faced the stormy Jarl;
The captors could not stand the gale and blew away as chaff
But Dragon-Born and Dragon-Storm at long last locked their eyes
And clashed, and Voice and Steel and Scale resounded in the gloom
Until the freer Dragon could no longer best the bound.
The masters rushed upon him, gave him chance ere facing fate
To give one word to any that should wish to know his mind
And he asked them then if brother’s end might come at brother’s hand:
’Twould be less hard to take, and ‘twould the bett’r incite the bards.
Then Brother-Dragon’s world at once embarked in sudden halt—
The Brother-Slayer’s death would bring him nigh upon his foe,
But brother slaying brother was a bitter pill to take
For the healing of the wounds that brother unto brother gave.
He thought and prayed and pondered, till the one that leashed him asked
If he would do it after all, or if he would relent
So that the leash must take the head—but taking sword in hand
The Dragon-Born the Dragon-Storm, his brother, ended then.
The Dragon-Born the Elder-Dragon swiftly did defeat,
His people saving sure from double danger in their midst;
A hero he was lauded, but he ne’er the man forgot,
The double brother, dead untimely at his brother’s hand.
Fascinating poem... is each line truly metered to 14 each time? It's like an extended blank verse! I hope you write more of this stuff.
ReplyDelete~ a friend
Yes, each line is 14 feet. Skyrim draws heavily from a faux-Nordic mythology, so I also paid far more attention than normal to alliteration, turn of phrase, and parallelism of thought.
DeleteOn a somewhat related note, if you are the friend I think you are (or even if you're not), you should look up the track Sovngarde from the Skyrim soundtrack. The rest of that soundtrack is also really good.
Ah! Then I did count correctly. One more question about that... is the metrical foot iambic or something else? I couldn't quite determine that, but then, I'm no expert. I'm learning all the time about things like this.
DeleteThe song you recommended sounds a lot like the music played in The Fellowship of the Ring when the troop goes through Moria. Not a few basses in the lower register, too. ;-) I suspect it's in C minor, but don't quote me on that. Did you write the poem to this song? It fits the atmosphere beautifully. I will look over the rest of the soundtrack as time allows me this week.
Am I who you think I am? Well, I can't read your thoughts over cyberspace, unfortunately. But I am a friend. :-)
Whoops, it's seven iambic feet per line. The poem was written before I'd even gotten to that particular track, but I'd say the rest of the soundtrack informed the feel of things. No direct analogues to any specific track, though.
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