Girod's Tale (Girodswyth)

This is a short piece of fiction I wrote for my campaign, and includes some footnotes. It isn't the best poetry, but just think that it looks great in the original Otkori : )

Girodswyth

In the passing trail of the monks¹
of the city of Swordless Tales²
a child was born with the Hald Face Curse
and was cast from his blood
to fend against the Evil Emperor's Sin
with no sword to wield virtue
no shield to balance justice
and no mead to suckle on.
His word-banner³ was Girod.

Cast to the undercity
he lived by Fate and was
challenged daily by Sin and Chaos.
He lived in a hole of refuse and droppings
eating like the enlo do.
He dealt with slaves,
gave money to stickpickers
walked in their stead, was one himself.

Yet Orlanth's Seventh Wind blew in his soul
as foul and low as he was -
He was Blessed!
Filled with Wind's Breath and Creator's Light,
carried the Unseen Woad on his flesh.
Destined for Orlanth's Table in his Stead,
Not the Emperor's Feer.⁴.

The day came that in the Undercity
came a Beast
plagued by Hate and Sin
and riddled with Gbaji's Dark Light.
It walked both day and night
and had two souls to squander
neither resting in its body.
It could take shape of and wish
known only by the red lead fighting claw
it wore on its death-reach.
Every night it arose from Hell
and stole Souls for the Black Lord,
The Emperor's Sycophant.

While it ate stickpicker-meat
The Lords would not see it.
Girod protected his downcast kin And formed the Wooden Ring.
His Ring were:

A dungshoveller as his Sword.
A blind woman as his Lightbringer.
A thief as his golden word-lord.
A young child as his Firebringer.
Baro, the one handed alchemist, as Healer.
A member who fled from the Red Circle, who just knew.

They took the stickpickers to protection
and as the Beast came
the Wooden Ring fought it back.
Girod wielded only a horse bone as a blade
and a half-door as shield
but with Orlanth's Saintly Might
He pressed it back to Hell.

For seven nights came seven battles
Blood flowed freely in each.
Girod then vowed to the Saints
to slay the Beast, the Daemon.
On the eighth eve it came
stalking solemn through dead dwelled streets
claws low, head high, claw in hand.
Girod followed close behind, Eurmal-like,
his Sword and Firebringer close.
When the Son of Chaos turned
he thrust forth both.
In quick time, and a single bite,
the Beast swallowed the Firebringer whole.
As the Trickster immolated fast
the corpse burnt and scarred Beast-guts
scorching lung, burning heart.
Then Girod and his Sword plowed forth
striking hard, fast, bold.
Blood was spilt, a river-flow for the City to see,
the screaming wail, hackling cries,
as the Beast ran back-turned.
taking the Sword's life-breath with it.
Left in darkened tunnels
beneath the City skin⁵
only the stickpicker crowds comforted Girod,
for he was their Hero-Wind
and his loss was mourned
for his two dead ring-holders.

Two weeks passed, and no Beast came.
Girod and his Wooden Ring grew worried, so he went to his Lightbringer
who told him, long and slow,
"The Beast who walks, long and bold,
took nightflight to heart
and fled from here, his home,
to the outside world, to bear arms,
against the King's Ring."
Girod, who had taken Death-Oaths,
to slay the Beast in the name of Orlanth
took his Ring to the edge of their home,
and waited till Elmal hid in Hell.

Over the weeks,
the Beast had hunted
tracked down the King's daughter
and each night a different man-child,
went to fill its belly.
The King, growing tired,
watching his Swords and Spear Lords fall
as he sent them to kill his foe,
consulted with his Lawspeaker.
He was told that Orlanth,
Almighty Windblower,
had booned a lesser man
with the Hero's Walk,
a fighter named Girod could slay the Beast,
and recover the women who it had stolen away,
as its brides.
The King offered a King's Hoard⁶
for the death of the Beast.

The Lady Branwen decided to make,
the coin-prize her own,
and sought out Girod.
He was brought to her house
from the Undercity.
She was unabashed by the Half Face Curse
and saw Girod's True and Iron Heart.
She offered one half the hoard,
but Girod refused,
"To smite the Krjalki," he spoke,
"I ask for the hand of one woman
who I bring back from the Beast's prison
my chance to fulfil my forged-word,
is not worth metal-reward."⁷
Branwen agreed, consented true,
and a bond was made.

The Beast was to be found now,
only at night
slithering in the street shadows.
Thrice Girod passed it unawares
for the Beast was of the Shapechangers.
Its next victim was Ashal,
a famous girl.
When Girod arrived in its wake,
he found nothing he could track by.

He summoned his raven companion
from the Otherworld
which tracked down the Beast.
It hid in a column,
in a pillar,
that held aloft the temple roof,
for here, thought the Beast,
none might seek it, in the enemy-sanctum.
With a mighty swing of his horse-bone deathbringer,
Girod cracked the pillar asunder,
and forced the Beast out.

Claw met bone,
weapon met weapon
with snake breath the Beast spat
and Girod struggled free.
With a deadly tail,
it tore his leg from his body
yet Girod fought on!
With its claw
it ripped his weapon from his hands
and with his teeth he wrought his flesh.
Girod, bleeding, dying,
saw the Beasts head, the mouth rending his arm,
and thrust his weapon-holder⁸ deep into the wide maw,
grasped its throat from within,
and tore.
Wailing, screaming, the Beast hollered,
and released Girod.
Battered as he was, he would not now let go,
to allow the Beast to flee again,
and so with one leg, dove into the throat,
and sought the devoured women.

Within Girod found a staircase,
obsidian covered by blood
deep within the monster,
for it led to Hell
where the Emperor was.
All it devoured, walked here,
not the Old Man's Path.
In the tunnels and corridors
Girod walked using a discarded stick,
as a leg.
Girod walked as if two legged, strode the darkened path.
He whistled songs of youth
and prayers to Malkion and the Creator,
moving slowly, endlessly,
through the Beast.

He stumbled thrice, and in hunger,
was forced to devour three fingers.
Girod called his raven companion
and asked for its aid.
The raven flew, fast and true,
through the maze, and Girod followed
as best he could.
Soon Girod and his companion
came to the Hell Hold Spot
where the Beasts eaten gut-prisoners were bound,
kept tortured by one of the Beasts souls.

"None may pass." the soul spoke,
"Whose orders are these
Whose lore and ledger scribed such fallacy?
Who might I seek trial to?" asked Girod,
"None but mine own." answered the unfit spirit,
"Then I challenge you to a trial."
Girod said, shaking as death crept closer to him.
"A trial?" said the dark guardian, "You jest surely
I will win by far."
"Then you accept?"
"Of course, a trial for your soul
will be a trial well won."
Girod made the rites of Orlanth
and the trial began.
Girod chose the Trail of Ugliness.
Horrified, the Soul saw it had lost
for the Half Face Curse
was worse even than it.
Defeated the Soul departed
and returned to Maggothome
with its master.

The door unlocked, Girod had won,
and released the devoured men and women.
Yet the Curse was his visage
he seemed as krjalki as the guaridan.
They waylaid and slew the Hero
seeing him as chaos.
The Raven took them back
to the Beasts maw,
and they came from the corpse
back to the City.

Here they found they erred,
killed a Hero, not a monster,
and lamented Girods passing.
For while there was a corpse
and one soul was defeated
another still roamed,
and roams still,
till Orlanth blesses us
with another Girod,
to free the Undercity
from the child-cook
Emperor's Beast Curse.

Footnotes

(1) This would be when the Arkati monks left Mt. Fiesive on a holy quest known as "The Bowel of Swords" circa. 1100 ST.

(2) An old name for Fiesive, commonly used as a kenning in texts. It refers to the commonly non-violent nature of living in a city where wars can be raged in political intrigue rather than in blood feuds.

(3) Word-banner = name.

(4) Simply that his afterlife would be at Orlanth's right hand rather than in Hell with the Evil Emperor.

(5) In other words, in the Undercity.

(6) 16, 807 orbs.

(7) Metal-reward = money

(8) Weapon-holder = arm.