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- ''This story was written by Chris L'Etoile as a prize for the Grand Loremaster of Dereth, Keth al-Sheth. It has not been approved by Turbine or Microsoft, and should be considered apocryphal.
PRONUNCIATION:
- "Alysse!" she called in pain
- "Alysse?" the herdsmen shrugged
- "Beautiful," he nodded down
- "Did the dread lord speak to thee
- "I love thee, pretty one," he said
- "I love you," she said to the girl
- "I will not have her so decried
- "I would have thee by my side
- "My lady," spake Leikotha weakly
- "Nay," replied the Empress then
- "No words from that fell beast"
- "Still in the lady's safe repose
- "There is a monster on the loose!"
- ...There a NO alien heads in AC. Nootch.
- A fearsome squall brought heavy snow
- A figure wrapped in grey, and fell
- A girl of thirteen seasons now
- A goddess stalked the tiny dell
- A mighty chevaird, strong in arm
- A poison sliver pierced her breast
- A rotting woman, proud head bowed
- A set of silver armor borne
- A tent snow-dusted
- A thin hand to her shadowed face
- A-tremble in their sturdy bones
- Above the cities so decayed
- Across the smoking, frosted grounds
- Alaidain
- Alaidain alone returned
- Along his nightly rounds
- Alysse clutching close beside
- Alysse facing undead screamed
- Alysse wakened in a fear
- Alysse: al-LEASE-ay
- Among them groaned the wounded souls
- An ancient Haebraen sleepsong crooned
- And 'fore the dawn of winter's morn
- And Ashbane spun and whirled about
- And Gelidites in sobbing train
- And Nerash, mighty general, spake
- And aimed his black and mighty bow
- And blooming like the summer rose
- And chanted songs of ancient days
- And crossed the raging Jhenecaer
- And darkness ran the chevaird through
- And from Alysse's room he heard
- And glinted merri-ly about
- And hardened then with chorizite
- And laid his hands upon her
- And laymen filed from the halls
- And leapt into the starless air
- And looked upon Alysse sweet
- And not a trace was found
- And saw the figure stading there
- And sent its armies to the coast
- And shuddered at the rotting face
- And slew her company in wrath
- And spake unto the crafter Dhere
- And spake words greatly sage;
- And spoke to few along the road
- And staggering, she then retired
- And the figure hurried on
- And tossed their well-worn knucklebones
- And turned for one last stare
- And ventured cautiously upon
- And vowed upon eternal life
- And walked as if with heavy load
- And weakened by the poison bow
- Arenir: ay-REN-ear
- Argent were their alloyed keels
- Around her Ashbane drew a ring
- As agony caused knee to bend
- As fading haze laid her host bare
- As gromnatross through smoke and air
- As had the weather-sages feared
- As ill winds gusted
- As somnolent birds began to stir
- Ashbane by name to the old wright
- At Leikotha whirling 'round her foes
- At every creak and grumble
- At hand stood Alysse, her child
- At the guard's description
- Aureate sails unfurled as one
- Back to Planae bound
- Before sent into dark again?"
- Before that fell and drear plateau
- Bells sounded bright along the shore
- Besieged, the army was delayed
- Black tide advanced and then fell back
- Both armies drew in lines abreast
- But Leikotha bold prevented rout
- But Nerash high above worked charms
- But crept along the outer wall
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