Valley of the Mists

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Valley of the Mists

24 May

I wrote this earlier, but expanded on it now.

There is a legend that the bards do tell,
of a place so dark, there evil must dwell
They mention a place where the mist seems alive,
where creatures of madness live and thrive
A valley of death some would say,
no one knows what it’s like to this day
A place where even the dragons will not go,
such a place must be where evil would grow
But there are those who would venture to the valley,
never seen again, devoured by evil’s ally
Those who survive are driven to madness,
their family left to mourn with dark sadness
The bravest adventurer into the valley would dare not walk,
least his body be found broken on the rock
This valley that borders the greatest of countries,
each offering rewards for their enemies bounties
Armies from both would skirt around this land,
choosing instead to travel close to the sand
No elf would dare enter this foreboding place,
even after Brytalonia and Mysteria sat face to face
For one hundred years a peace has survived,
this valley watching as though it were alive
There were rumours no animals dared draw near,
they stayed away from the mists out of fear
Creatures of darkness and pure evil were said to dwell,
the mists themselves were just like a hell
The elves of the lands never could say,
not one of them set foot in the valley to this day
Even the bravest would speak quietly with fear,
holding themselves back as though darkness were near
But not everyone believes such tales,
some believe they can succeed where an other fails
Though such an elf is often quite rare,
there are those that would take up a dare
Some would go after a tankard or two,
so drunk any tale they’d tell would not ring true
Oh there were stories of those rumoured to go,
never seen again past the fifth fallen snow
Others said it was a haven for dark magic,
where powerful mages would live a life so tragic
Who’s to say what really is there,
when no one comes back or is sober in a dare
But such stories draw out curiosity,
and often an elf will grin with glee
And just to be certain about such a thing,
there is just one elf who would go for such a fling
She is known as the thief and her name will ring,
for she is born of the house Wennemein

From Stonebridge this tale will start, the jewel of Brytalonia
Past Brockton it will be told, the home of the skalds
Further south is the Mage’s Guild, the academy known as Arcanum Bridge
An epic tale more than certain, told throughout the land
One that should be known, even by the farmers of the Brighten Fields
Beyond is the valley, the place that rumours are spread
The Valley of Mists, north of Mysteria

When night falls and the mist rolls in,
the world becomes as dark as sin
The light grow dim and the air grows thick,
it can send a shiver right to the quick
Travellers beware of the road to the mists,
more than one have felt death’s sharp kiss
The stories are as old as time itself,
this valley foreboding has claimed more than one elf
But still there are those that would seek to conquer,
their courage high and their wits stronger
Such is the tale of one such elven maid,
with jet black hair all set in a braid
Her snow white flesh would seem to glow,
her eyes sparkled with excitement for sure
An agile young thing who would seek out her fame,
fortune and glory, that was the game
It wasn’t the wealth of things to steal,
he goal was merely to look and to feel
To get past the locks and disable the traps,
unbind sacred books from their leather bound wraps
The satisfaction of a job well done,
to snatch a small prize and quietly run
That was the life of this young elf,
to conquer a goal and feel satisfaction in self
She’d listen to rumours and keep them in mind,
remember small riddles if she was in a bind
With rapier, short sword and daggers so near,
she learned to defend herself from things that would fear
And so it was the way on one such dark night,
that Shani would venture onto the road without fright
Prepared she was to face the unknown,
and tales she would tell when she returned back home
Filled with such confidence, she felt so alive,
the experience she have, her legend would thrive
So one dark night she set out on the road,
leaving behind her books and abode
She’d travel light and make certain she was ready,
her blades were sharp, her hands were steady
She’d keep close to the road, but deep in shadow,
she knew that others would try to follow
The road is quiet, even in the dark,
there is nary a sound, even from a lark
But there are dangers, sure enough,
bandits, brigands, cut throats, enough
Such knowledge for Shani it did not deter,
she knew what she wanted, she’d take it for sure
So onto the road her feet did quietly walk,
not making a sound on grass or rock

From Stonebridge she’d start, the jewel of Brytalonia
Past Brockton she’d go, the home of the skalds
To the south she’d keep going, to Arcanum Bridge
Knowing she was getting close with each mile she would go
It wasn’t long now, as she entered the Brighten Fields
Beyond was the valley, the place that she sought
The Valley of Mists, north of Mysteria

The road was quiet as she crept along,
not making a sound not even a song
Shani knew the dangers that were there,
to walk the Mysterian border was something of a dare
But a curious maid was what she was,
an elf who knew a noble cause
Cause and effect was how she saw it,
she’d mark her place as she saw fit
She crept along the tightening walls,
not far from the Rock Split Falls
The fog rolled in and it was thick,
her motions slow with each time piece tick
She began to question if this was a wise idea,
when sight was blind and the road not clear
In fact there was nothing to be seen,
The Valley of the Mysts would remain just clean
But she pressed on in her quest,
curiosity had gotten her best
The road grew more rocky as she stepped,
on hands and knees she crept
Her breath was ragged in part with fear,
what was in this fog so near
There was something in the distance that she could see,
what in this world could ever it be
She crawled faster toward her goal,
pushing back the fear that tried to grow
Rocks gave way to grass,
the fog didn’t feel like such a heavy mass
She pushed herself to her feet,
gazing into the mists for just half a beat
A light seemed to shine,
perhaps a lantern from an old mine
She could see it through the fog,
not very far, just a short jog
Her eyes did twinkle with anticipation,
this would be worth all her frustration
She stepped carefully into the clearing,
the call of the night owls nearing
A welcome reply to this valley so dark,
and she lighted her torch with a quick spark
Her eyes grew wide with what she did see,
nothing ever prepared her for a sight to bring such glee
Carved into stone with ancient runes,
nestled into the hills like rocks in sand dunes
She saw the most wondrous thing ever,
something told in history books never
They looked quite ornate and very old,
and Shani stepped forward with feet so bold

From Stonebridge she did travel, the jewel of Brytalonia
Through Brockton she went, the home of the skalds
To the south she had gone, to Arcanum Bridge
Just to see this wonderful sight
This valley, these ancients, not far from the Brighten Fields
In this secret valley, the place that she stood
The Valley of Mists, north of Mysteria

Shani stood in awe in the pale moonlight,
marvelling at this wonderful sight
The texts of the mages never spoke of this,
she had to tell them and share her bliss
The skalds had no knowledge of such a wondrous gate,
and grinned of the tales those bards would create
Not even the Mysterians had such information in their library,
most of their books were drab and quite dreary
This information would be such a revelation,
she grinned and laughed with such elation
She had to tell the scribes of such things,
to hear the tales or the songs they would sing
Shani’s goal was set in stone,
she’d tell the skalds on her way home
And bring them to this mystical place,
hoping to receive their good grace
She gathered her belongs to make the fast trip,
her torch she took into her light grip
With one look back to those magical gates,
she smiled with the thought of what awaits
She thought of the pride she’d receive from her mother,
the adoration that would come from her brother
The news would be welcomed throughout the land,
from the dark swamps of Mysteria to Semerkhet’s hot sand
She took one last look before turning to the north,
a longing gaze that was morth than it’s worth
Caught up in her daydreaming was she,
that for a moment there was something more to see
Her sharp elven ears did hear something faint,
she knew it wasn’t a fae, not something so quaint
It sounded like a blast or a crack,
Like lightning that would make you jump back
An explosion so loud but also most quiet,
hardly enough to cause any riot
But this was Shani and her curiosity did rise,
as she began to creep forward, carefully watching the skies
Maybe the sound came from the distance,
some lightning strike she did not glance
The sound it did ring out once more,
Now she was certain it’s source for sure
Closer and closer toward the gate she crept,
as though she were walking beside someone who slept
Shani tilted her head and listened close,
as though trying to hear someone read prose
All around grew very still,
even the air took on a chill
She perked up her ears when she heard it,
a report of some kind but the source did not fit

From Stonebridge they hear, the jewel of Brytalonia
In Brockton she’d tell them, the home of the skalds
The mages must know in Arcanum Bridge
What lay beyond this magical gate
That lay in this valley not far from the Brighten Fields
Sounds never before heard that she could not explain
In the Valley of Mists, north of Mysteria

Shani drew back from her place,
a look of confusion over her face
“D-d-did I just hear cries?” she did stutter,
“An’ shouts an’ bangs like s-s-someone closin’ a shutter?”
She listened again drawing several feet closer,
“I’m certain I d-d-did, but it could be a cover.”
“Like the wind playin’ t-t-tricks on poor ol’ me,
‘r someone havin’ fun, make me s-s-scared just ta see.”
It was not fear that was in her voice,
her mode of speech was not her choice
And she did continue to listen at the gate,
for a long long time did she wait
And as she did she began to grin,
she clapped her hands and would slap her shin
As she heard the sounds from the gate within,
in this place that was rumoured to be as dark as sin
“I hear cavalry, wagons, an’ more,
I w-w-wonder just what’s the score.
Maybe it’s some kind of new land,
I wonder if them people need a hand.”
She stood back a few feet,
her eyes watching the gate
Looking over the archway carefully
there must be a key that would grant her entry
She ran her hands over the stone,
suddenly the gate did seem to groan
The whirling pool that was filled with light,
began to fill with colour of such delight
She was too busy to notice to change,
she busily searched for some lever or flange
Something that would open this door,
so she could hear and see so much more
She only thought of the coming adventure,
that she did note see the coming forever
A scream of great fright was what snapped her awake,
and she looked to the pool unsure of her sake
She stared into the lights unable to move,
only her eyes did blink as she watched the gate’s grove
The colours did change from swirling lights,
the took on new shapes and new sights
Shani finally let out a long quiet gasp,
as she gazed at the sight just beyond her grasp
As her eyes did gaze upon the scene,
she inspected her gear, preparing to move unseen
For what lay beyond the entrance was grand,
never seen before in the elven land
Her attention was fixed as the hour grew late,
upon what lay beyond this magic gate