Noren's Crossing

A poem commemorating the first of Noren's great battles

I
It was evening, and the men of Noren's Company were weary
From a day of dreary riding in the rain;
Many miles the men had ridden ‘cross the Plains of Vivengary,
Leading women and their children in the train. 

Noren tempted with adventure, and the promise of new lands,
For the king had taken all they'd ever owned;
Punishment for the rebellion, banished to the Endless Sands,
To a wasteland fit for naught but skull and bone.

Noren led them through the desert, losing many to the sands,
Though many more survived to tell the tale;
'Til at long last they beheld a vivid sea of gold-green grasses,
And the promised prize: The Vivengary Trail.

II
It was evening, and Old Grey was telling stories by the fire,
Tales of better days and better ones to come;
When the call rang out: To arms! Hostiles massing on the bank!
Across the shallow ford that crossed the river run. 

Noren called the men to arms, called to hold the river bank,
He was first to make his stand ahead the host;
Next to rise was good Bryn Thesper, one who hailed from Evenshire, 
Firm in feet and strong in arm, he took his post. 

Taking up his trusted sword and shield with crest of eagle's wings,
Noren urged the men to hold a steady line; 
Then the storm began, with thunderous roars and rains of hellish steel,
Enemies clad in black and wielding weapons fine. 

III
It was evening, and the moonless sky provided not a glimmer,
Even so the soldiers fought into the night.
Blood and bile across their faces, fallen brothers at their feet,
Souls returned with honour to the Everlight.

Hours passed without an end in sight—the onslaught never stalling—
Thesper pressed the men with songs and battle cries;
"Never falter, never leave a man", he urged the soldiers on;
"The Gods are with us—keep an eye upon the skies."

It was midnight, thereabouts, when Noren felt the storm abating. 
Struck with fear the enemy started to retreat;
Noren pushed for surest victory, told Old Grey to lead the rout,
And rejoiced to feel dry earth beneath his feet. 

IV
It was evening, though the early hours were creeping up to meet them;
Now the dust had cleared, and enemy had fled.
Noren searched for higher ground and turned to face his loyal Company,
"My gift to you: your freedom, evermore."

It was morning when Bryn Thesper last beheld his wife and daughter,
Choking words of love before his final breath.
Many others never got to mark their lovers' final passing,
Only finding solace in their noble deaths.

But the battle had been won! The exiled now beheld new pastures,
Lands to conquer, cultivate, and leave to kin.
Many battles still awaited, but the way forward now was clear;
Noren's Host had but an empire left to win.

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