Poems of Varsian Lore: Chronicles of the Varsian Kingdom
Poems of Varsian Lore is a short book of poetic historical accounts from the fantasy world of the Varsian Kingdom. Each poem starts with an introduction into the lore of the world and flows on with verse and rhyme.
This assortment of Varsian poetry was compiled by an unknown writer and historian of the Varsian Kingdom. In this book you will find poetry from ages past as well as some more contemporary pieces.
Most of the ancient poetry was discovered in archaeological digs. Those poems which were complete and undamaged by the sands of time were added to this short book along with some more well known poetry from the modern age.
Copies of this publication can be viewed and acquired from the Chronicles of Continuity located in Galen's grove. The custodians at the chronicle building have added it to their shelves in their eager attempt to gain a never ending influx of knowledge and history.
The following is a sample of poetry from this book.
This poem is written of Mt. Tzita by the human explorer Braden Koru who allegedly solved the mountain's riddle and was transported from one side of the mountain to the other in 1997 AC. Legend has it that the mountain is impossible to travel over, or under. Although there is a vast system of underground caves and caverns no one has discovered a way through them. Many have tried to pass over the mountain, few have succeeded. A few have turned back in time to save their lives.
Those who made it through the mountain tell of a voice coming from the mountain and presenting the riddle of this poem. Only by solving this riddle were they able to pass through. They say, however, they can not tell anyone else the riddle's answer for that is the mountain's rule.
Most respect this as little more than a story to hide a safe passage over the mountain and say there is no "Song of the Mountain." However, those who have failed to find safe passage and safely returned, although in ill health, recall a different voice from the mountain... the mountain's battle cry.
"The Mountain's Battle Cry."
Through misty pathways comes a trace,
Of subtle dangers old.
Of mystic voices from the face,
In mountains frozen cold.
As howling wind storms twist and turn,
Through icy barren lands.
Its music through the sky will burn,
Its imagery so grand!
It tells a story in its song,
This frigid mountain's cry.
That all who trespass and do wrong,
Will surely fall and die.
It chants a riddle from its shore,
Through skies of crystal blue.
And he who solves the riddles core,
Has sanction to pass through.
The mountain sings its words of thought,
I wrote them down for you.
If solve this riddle you can not,
Then do not dare pass through.
"I am a wall with towers tall,"
"I am a freezing death to all."
"But in my veins the fire stains,"
"Causes snow to run like rains."
"Pass over top you'll freeze and stop,"
"Pass below you'll burn and drop."
"But seconds pass and you see grass,"
"Instead of ice and burning ash."
"There is a face in that place,"
"That has vanished with no trace."
"It once again has never been,"
"Only may you pass within."
When these words are done and through,
If you can solve the heart.
Safe passage there will be for you,
And safely you'll depart.
Fail to find this hidden mark,
A new song will float by.
And you will hear a song so dark,
The mountain's battle cry!
This next poem refers to the legends behind the first dryads. Although the author is unknown many believe that it was written by a Varsa. It is said in the old days there used to be two distinct groups of dryads, fire and water. According to the legend somewhere along the line the two opposing factions joined because of a marriage between the prince of the fire dryads and the princess of the water dryads.
This joining created the typical dryads as they are seen today, clouds of steam-like vapor. Although many hold that there are still a few fire and water dryads alive to this day.
I see a hand, a hand of flame,
It grasps a frozen heart.
And on this hand is found a name,
that never will depart.
I see a face, a face of ice.
It views two burning eyes.
It holds back though flames entice,
As crystal ice cries.
I hear a word, a floating breath,
That warms the coldest soul.
It wants to have a final death,
So they can be made whole.
A soft reply of floating snow,
She whispers back the same.
A breath that chills the warming blow,
Of heat that is his name.
I see a hand, a hand of ice,
It grasps a burning heart.
And on this hand is found the price,
That never will depart.
I see a face, a face of fire,
It views two crystal eyes.
Of this view he will not tire,
As the burning flame cries.
A heart melts down, a heart beat stalls,
As hands hold what remain.
The crystal drops and fire falls,
As tears fall like rain.
I hear their words, their love is true,
Until the bitter end.
They are committed through and through,
Their love will never bend.
I see them now, together now,
And with a firm embrace.
The fire dies, ice melts down,
They're gone without a trace.
They said their vows and held them near,
And now the wedding is done.
They conquered their internal fear,
And the two have become one.
This particular rhyme was written by Biran Koru, son of the explorer Braden Koru, in the year 2010 AC. The story depicts the age old disagreement surrounding the ruins of Dolraeyoss. The town of Dolraeyoss was the largest and most prosperous town on the earth before the Great Scarring occurred around 2000 AC. After the great scaring the city was left in ruins. Years later when it was finally rediscovered approximately one hundred miles north of the Evilexose mountain range near the east end along the Sarengedeeze river, people began to say it was cursed. Others, in contrast, say it is in fact blessed because they believe it is where creation began.
"The Ruins of Dolraeyoss"
It's said they hold a curse,
The ruins of Dolraeyoss.
A barren land or worse,
Haunted by a ghost.
It's said the men who venture,
Into its crumbling midst.
Put themselves in danger,
By setting foot there where it sits.
It's said that in that spot,
The great scarring, it began.
Because wickedness was hot,
So was purged throughout the land.
Thus it's cursed they maintain,
From rock, to tree, to sand.
A desert place with little rain,
A barren lifeless land.
But others disagree,
There is no curse they say.
For if you venture in you'll be,
Blessed this very day.
It's not where scars were formed,
But where creation began.
And though by many they are scorned,
They hold fast in their stand.
Death and life in one place,
They both seem very close.
Make your choice, curse of grace,
In the ruins of Dolraeyoss.