The Tragedy of Drishyan.

The Tragedy of Drishyan

Composed approximately 2000 years before the

Encyclica Drakonica. Given to the party by the

hedgehog-fey Nostle.

These are the true verses of Saanvi the Poet,

sung of the deeds of the mighty Princess Drishyan

in mourning and for her glory. To the heirs of her house

this song is dedicated. May they uphold her memory.

The green salt waves beneath his wing,

A battle dragon hardened, clash of arms,

Pinioned sweep of bronze and green.

In combat locked the nations stand,

Upon the fight he feeds, on deeds, delight agleam

His song a roar of war, his hoard a treasure

Of fallen heroes slain in glory---Exult!

Mahana Broad-Chest! Your hour has come.

Hero to Men, fly on your great wings

Command the battle tide to turn and wash

Away the stain of Elven treachery!

From land his enemy notes well the turn of battle---

Green-winged foe, terrible beauty of hidden forests,

Hungry for the hearts and souls of Elf and Man.

Bolor the Cunning, all-seeing, all-devouring!

Her wiles have swayed the hearts of Elves to doom

Unrelenting. In her mind the war was hatched,

Incubated in her misty stronghold, unleashed

A pack of worgs all wrought of steel and poison

To sweep the face of sea and land, to turn all into

A resplendent empire in thrall to her appetite---

All must please her or perish in her jaws.

Mahana the shape-shifter! He flies ahead of the ships

Of Mankind, eager to test his mettle against

The fabled foe. Watch him, his bronze wings

Sun-touched, as Men and Elves in ships collide.

Our captain cries out, her voice lost to his ears

Filled with the roar and lust of battle,

The ships forgotten in his intoxication.

Drishyan, heir of eighty mighty lands, cries out

Commands Mahana---Return! Observe your oath!

Recall the plan of battle, return in haste to us,

Sweep the ships of Elves again to shore!

Alas! He hears not, has eyes only for the green-winged foe,

Who awaits him in lazy flight above the greenwood,

The wild green coast of Elvendom corrupted.

Bolor the Hungry awaits him, notes well his error,

Draws him further ashore with languid wings.

Bolor sees the shock of ship upon ship---

She has no trouble hearing the cries of Men deserted

By their mighty ally, the battle-dragon, the bronze

Lightning storm above the waves. Mahana! they cry,

But he is deafened, blinded by his battle-lust.

And so she entices him far from the mighty ships.

Their flight holds terrible splendor, green and bronze,

Poison and lightning at war above the forests.

But at sea the ships of Men are driven back,

Our oars and masts are cracked and thrown,

Swallowed by waves. The Elves sing their moonsong

An eerie magic to dismay the Human host.

Captains and crew would jump into the sea

To escape that song. But hark! Listen! A voice

Human and strong now rises above the tide

Of death and faerie lights---Drishyan! Mighty Drishyan,

Redoubtable, indomitable, she draws her sword!

Stand and fight! she commands above the din.

Elven arrows search for her but find naught,

No flesh for their poisoned tips. Drishyan Swift-Footed,

Princess of eighty lands, aims her ship like an arrow

And sinks it deep into the smooth-carved flank of her foe.

The Elven captain redoubles his song, cries out

But Drishyan fears him not, implacable and aimed true

Her arrow-ship quivers through his hull, that magic ship

Treacherous Elves had boasted of in song---Behold!

Even now he sinks beneath the green waves

His armored bones sent to rest with pearls and mud.

Drishyan, fearless Drishyan, her arrow-ship broken

By her triumph, no Human hand may save her.

Where is mighty Mahana Broad-Chested, tireless flier?

Even now he may save her, sinking so far from her fleet.

Remember your oath, mighty Mahana! Return to war

Save your allies, save the ships, the cause of Man

Forsake the glory of solitary combat over forest green

Spread your wings sun-touched, to Drishyan fly!

Where is mighty Mahana Broad-Chested, fearless dragon?

A gleam in the sky---Behold! His lightning flashes still

Bronze against green above the Elven lands. Alas!

In her cunning, Bolor the Tireless forges doom for him,

Hammers the bronze against her anvil of treachery.

Dive and swoop, beyond the clouds and beneath the trees

Green and bronze attack with claws and jaws

And mighty spells of ancient times, unseen by mortal eyes.

Who can say how their battle raged? Two combatants,

Ancient in their splendor, frightful presence and fearless skill,

Withdraw far from mortal eyes---but the skies fill with sound

Clash and roar and thunder potent. Can Mahana turn the tide?

Sea-dragon, great hero of Man, will he return triumphant

To save the Human fleet from its Elven destruction?

Drishyan lifts her eyes to see her friend Mahana

Disappear at last beyond the flank of Sokokowen

Elven mountain wreathed in fog, poison haunt

Of dragon green---she knows no hope remains

For his return. Still she strives, her battle cry---

For Ulolu! For Man! A mighty stride she takes

To Elven magic-ship she leaps, sword in hand

Her blade aimed true, corrupted heart of Elf

Expires upon her strike. Locked together upon

Elven ship she sinks with her foe, her voice once more

Cries out, Recall your oath, O dragon! On we fight!

Who can say what breath stirred those forests

What tide swept the trees with its exhale

And changed the course of battle? We can only sing

Of our defeat, our retreat, our ships adrift and limping

Tossed in green waves---of Drishyan’s body sunk

Never to be found again. We can only sing of that bronze

Traitor, the shape-shifter Mahana, who returned to us

Too late, green agleam in his eye, never to speak

Of that forest battle against his green-winged foe

The Cunning Bolor, never to tell the tale of how

Both dragons should survive, when Drishyan died.