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The Minstrel Contest

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Walküre:
THE MINSTREL CONTEST

A common custom in classical times, when music and lyrics used to render food and wine finer and better. And even more in Middle Age, where official contests between minstrels were a rare occasion of culture and jubilation, despite harshness and much toil. The logic of this thread is thus plain to fathom: a poet challenges another of his kind. In amicable manners and conduct, lyrics and knowledge are to be exchanged in grand style.


--- Zitat ---Thou shalt sing and rhymes share,
No odious mood nor deceptive snare,
The ways of Arda, its heart, core and lore,
I sense in honest will, of the Minstrel Contest thou longest to know more.
--- Ende Zitat ---

Isaac632:
The end of the world draws ever closer,
And every land will be reborn,
The forces of Arda now toil and muster,
The perished and fallen will mourn.

The world is changing, and let this be the hour,
When a beacon of light high on his tower,
Lead Middle-Earth to a new dawn.
But not for men who are weak and frail,
The new order to come will surely prevail,
Shall all men bend to the will of Sauron?

But the old and wise has unmatched might,
Great legions march for Saruman the White!
Join our ranks or perish with the old land,
Or rise with us and live under the white hand.
No power of this Earth, man, dwarf, or elf,
Will contend with the will of the Archwizard himself.

And once the worthy are rescued from the weak,
Sauron and Saruman will fight over the masterless and meek.
But only when our leader wears The Ring,
Will Saruon be banished, by the true High King.

Walküre:
The challenge I shall accept, Festus.


The grimmest sight we are now to behold, as ashes and menacing smoke from the pits of Isengard emerge,
For the arts of the Istar industry now serve, and the wheel of machinery unceasingly by fell hands is made go round,
And that smoke is smoke of green and amicable creatures perishing in the merciless void of those furnaces, vomiting iron and bolts and blades,
The wizard gazes at the horizon with secure will, knowing the arising magnitude of such a sudden coming in the exchequer of Middle-earth.

Skies benevolent on the Golden Wood remain, being covered and secretly veiled by of the past a very obscure mystery,
A force within those green ways dwells and for long time thither has resided,
Common peasants of the cold heath dread that place and phantoms to hide beneath trees are believed,
The wisest the plain truth know, that a sorceress of grand prowess the door for malice shall keep shut, and her ladyship seems to halt the flow of time across her domain, which is sound shelter in disenchanted and grey days.

Isaac632:
The ancient tongues have told, of an ancient evil dark and cold,
That when dragons and goblins wage war, will rebirth;
Sauron the Cruel, ancient shadow resurrected,
Will seek to conquer the weakened Middle-Earth.

His heralds are the screams of the weak and frail,
Of lords and kings, in their defiance, felled down;
The hearts and wills of the free people will fail,
Before the Dark Lord and his blackened crown.

Do you not see it, faithless fools?
Can you not see it with your own eyes?
The world will end to ghosts and ghouls,
But a new order will rise.
On deaf ears will fall your cries,
Until every river dries,
And every green thing dies.

Here and now you hide, believing yourself safe and sound,
While I ceaselessly toil and work this once innocent ground.
The forests will fall if it means I reign,
Not as Wizard or Warmonger, but as sovereign King.
Once, I alone, possess The Ring.

What time do you believe there is left to cherish?
Join with us now, or else you shall perish.
Raise the banner of the White Hand,
Let its glory rise in every land.
The hand that will take away the grief of the New World,
The hand that now harnesses the fires of the Underworld,
The hand that will keep those who join my side,
And will crush those who, my will, defied.

My legion marches, the wilds are swept away.
With a message for the Elven Lady;
If you join me not, The Future King,
For war, I will be ready.

Walküre:
Vain words and conceited pride from the White Wizard's side,
You shall not reign on the ways of a world older than this mortal figure of yours and us you are not to behold sigh,
The spirit of woods grows and time resists with undaunted will,
The sheer dominion and brutal rule we have since our dawn rejected, and to relentless malaise never we shall bow or kneel.

The Istar should know better, but wisdom he renounced and appalling was the moment in which of his treason the Free People were informed,
The imperative mission you have forsworn, wizard, to shield mankind from the awakening shadows appearing where Sun rises and its path commences,
Very little could one have suspected, that of the Evil the tentacles had trapped a one-time noble mind, skilled in crafting and in the arcane much interested,
Ill-boding the time when the Seeing Stone to your hands was entrusted, and thus your eyes were granted far sight and the power of knowledge, if not for the other fell intelligence that your acquaintance yearned to make, to sway the good proposition and for a serviceable ally to seek.

An ally? Do you really nourish the hope of allegiance, White Hand?
You ought to know that the Eye allies seldom has known, but often servants of the least type, bent by his order and to servitude much used, for he the sharing of might does not desire,
And, were you to scheme, to him unbeknownst, and to deceive who of deception is the master, you shall have your plans be rendered naught, for in equal manner the Dark Lord schemes too and perhaps the hour shall be late, when your being puppet and mere decoy you will have ultimately realised,
That hour shall be late, once the victim of treacherous design understands that as simple pawn he's been utilised.

The Elven Queen does have a last task to fulfil before the end of the age,
Before mortal memory of her presence on earth is to vanish,
Prior to the somber fate, when the Three silent and still are to become,
She shall not relinquish the duty to safeguard and of the grand war to be part, for only concerted action and unity of intent the menace will fend off for the good, of whom mayhem and discord among his enemies much cherishes.

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