Curtainfall, by Edgrin Galesong
Based on his experience of the assault of Death Hill
What madness drove us there that night
To catch an eagle fast in flight
I do not, can not hope to know—
Save that our leader bade it so.
“Tis our sworn duty,” so he said,
whose silver tongue so well misled,
and none but gods could hope to win
the fury from blackhearted Krynn.
So matched Sayd pace for pace we did,
Until we found the place where hid
The Stag Lord and his savage men,
Curled fast like vipers in their den.
A portrait now, of Death Hill’s gate:
a place the gods had loved too late;
so black and frozen lay the posts,
so thrilled with hunger screamed the ghosts,
And zombies rising from the snow,
And archers stalking those below,
Gave currency to my own fear.
Twas then I heard what I must hear.
The voice sang out o’er midnight’s pitch,
each word to bind my faith as stitch.
Twas HE who sang the demon’s part
And met my fear with steely heart.
“So now we dance the game of knives!
The one with surest hands survives!
In dark and night, the wolves may glower,
But I, Sayd Krynn, shall stand the hour!”
Let all men know from here to Geb,
from the rushes to the spider’s web,
from temples draped with gold and pearls
to the hovel where the river curls:
The Stag is dead, his heart lies still;
His life was cut by ferocious will;
The Black Cat howls, his voice is power;
The Stolen King has stood the hour.