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Post by venger on Oct 29, 2010 0:24:45 GMT -5
From the desk of Petrides, cleric of the Dark One:
A fine vellum scroll:
A number of scribbled notes:
Dozens of yellowed parchment scrolls bearing the distinctive stamp of the Church. They appear to be birth, marriage and death records. (returned to the Church)
A tattered and bloodied page, clearly torn from a book:
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Post by venger on Jan 2, 2011 22:59:34 GMT -5
The insane ramblings of the mad monk Xenka as dutifully scribed by his followers 1000 years ago...
XENKA'S PROPHECIES
Scattered Verses
Blessed is the one who reads the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear it and take to heart what is written in it, because the time is near.
My words shed light upon darkness.
I see the rocks in motion, and trees bursting open -- I see treasures which have lain hidden for centuries coming forth. There I see one which is of three. It is black. It is magic.
Clearly do I see The Gates to Another World, but let it be said that they must not be allowed to open as one alone! I pray thee above all things to have this in remembrance.
They must be accompanied by The Three who Wait in stone circles 'til the force comes through, lines joined in faint discord and the Stormwatch brews -
A concert of Kings as the white sea snaps, at the heels of a soft prayer whispered in the wee hours down by Dun Ringill -
For the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
And those who ancient lines did ley will heed this song that calls them back.
Pass the wood and pass the lady. Pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the Cup of Crimson wonder.
Ask the Green Man where he comes from, ask the cup that fills with red.
Ask the old grey standing stones who show the sun his way to bed.
Question all as to their ways, and learn the secrets that they hold.
Walk the lines of Nature's palm, crosses with silver and with gold.
Join in black December's sadness, lie in August's welcome corn.
Stir the cup that's ever filling with the blood of all that's born.
Cauldron black, all lovelorn, the stars grow cold and cease to spin
Should I fall, my fire in the light, to chase a feather in the wind
Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight there moves a thread that has no end.
For many hours and days that pass ever soon the tides have caused the flame to dim
At last the arm is straight, the hand to the loom is this to end or just begin?
The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again, one voice is clear above the din
Proud Arianne, one word, my will to sustain for me, the cloth once more to spin
Yours is the cloth, mine is the hand that sews time, his is the force that lies within
Ours is the fire, all the warmth we can find
Now is the solstice of the year. Soon Winter will be the glad song that you hear.
Seven maids move in seven time. Have the lads up ready in line.
Join together 'neath the Mistletoe. By the Holy oak where-on it grows.
Seven Druids dance in seven time, sing the song the Bells call, loudly chiming.
Ring out those bells, ring out, ring hallowed Bells. Ring, hallowed Bells.
Praise be to the distant sister Sun. Joyful as the silver planets run.
Seven maids move in seven time. Sing the song the Bells call, loudly chiming.
Rivers run red with blood, and the fallen star is shining.
The dead king shall rise to seize the triad with hands that cannot grasp and eyes that cannot see
All wards broken and the mystic barriers pierced with mating swords.
Both and neither to triumph.
And while the sundered earth spews forth the dregs of centuries, a new order shall come upon the land.
I see them ringing the bells! I am not there.
I am dead. Ring the bells.
Oh, joy! What sweet music the bells make, I am dreaming.
I hear the bells and I wake...
I look to the west and my spirit is crying for leaving
In my thoughts I have seen, rings of smoke through the trees
And the voices of those who stand looking
And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune
Then the piper will lead us to reason
And a new day will dawn, for those who stand long
And the forests will echo with laughter
Yes, there are two paths you can go by
But in the long run there's still time to change the road you're on
In case you don't know, the piper's calling you to join him
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow? And did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind?
And as we wind on down the road, our shadows taller than our soul
There walks a lady we all know who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold and if you listen very hard
The truth will come to you at last when all are one
Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face and stars to fill my dream
I am a traveler of both time and space to be where I have been
To sit with elders of a gentle race this world has seldom seen
And talk of days for which they sit and wait all will be revealed
Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace whose sounds caress my ear
But not a word I heard could I relate the story was quite clear
Oh, all I see turns to brown as the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand as I scan this wasted land
Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace like thoughts inside a dream
Heed the path that led me to that place a yellow desert screen
My kingdom beneath the summer moon I will return again
Sure as the dust that blows high in June
Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face to flaunt the straits of fear
Sisters of the wayside biding time in quiet peace await their place within the ring of calm
Still stand to turn in seconds of release await the call they know may never come
In times of lightness no intruder, no harm to jeopardize the course, upset the run
And all was joy and hands were raised toward the sun as love in the halls of plenty overrun
Still in their bliss unchallenged by defeat unending dances shadowed on the day
Within the wall their daunting formless keep preserved their joy and kept their doubts at bay
Faceless legions stood in readiness to weep just turn a coin - bring order to the fray
And everything is soon, no sooner thought than deed
But no-one seemed to question in any way
How keen the storied hunter's eye prevails upon the land to seek the unsuspecting and the weak
And powerless the fabled sat, too slow to lift a hand toward the foe that threatened from the deep
Who cares to dry the cheeks of those who saddened stand adrift upon the sea of futile speech and draw the vein of blood that stains the land
That no-one ever, ever, could ever reach
Dull is the armour - cold is the day, hard was the journey - dark was the way?
I heard the word - I couldn't stay, I couldn't stand it another day
Touched by the timely coming, roused from the deepest sleep
Searching, though you don't know where to start
Can't find the key to fit the lock on your heart
You think you know but you are never quite sure
Your soul is ill but you will not find a cure.
The wisdom of the fool won't set you free.
The queen of swords took her bow and then she turned to go
the prince of peace embraced the gloom and walked the night alone
Oh, dance in the forest of night - sing to the morning light
The shadowlord rides in force tonight and time will tell us all
Oh, throw down your plough and hoe - rest not to lock your homes
Side by side we wait the might of the darkest of them all
Where was your word? Where did you go?
Where was your helping? Where was your bow?
The dance of the puppets, the rusted chains of prison moons are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change, the tournament's begun.
The purple piper plays his tune, the choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue, for the court of the crimson king.
The keeper of the city keys put shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside the pilgrim's door with insufficient schemes.
The black queen chants the funeral march, the cracked brass bells will ring;
to summon back the wicked witch to the court of the crimson king.
The gardener plants an evergreen whilst trampling on a flower.
I chase the wind of a prism ship to taste the sweet and sour.
The pattern juggler lifts his hand; the orchestra begin.
As slowly turns the grinding wheel in the court of the crimson king.
On soft gray mornings widows cry, the wise men share a joke;
We grasp divining signs to satisfy the hoax.
The yellow jester does not play but gently pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance in the court of the crimson king.
I hear the horses' thunder down in the valley below
I'm waiting for the angels - waiting for the eastern glow
The apples of the valley hold the seeds of happiness, the ground is rich from tender care - repay, do not forget
Release the grip - throw down the key, held now within the knowing rests now within the peace
Take of the fruit, but guard the seed
Oh, dance in the dark of night - sing to the morning light, the apples turn to brown and black - the tyrant's face is red
Oh, war is the common cry - pick up your swords and fly, the sky is filled with good and bad that mortals never know
Oh well, the night is long - the beads of time pass slow, tired eyes on the sunrise - waiting for the eastern glow
The pain of war cannot exceed the woe of aftermath
the drums will shake the castle wall - the wights ride in black
Oh, sing as you raise your bow - shoot straighter than before
No comfort has the fire at night that lights the face so cold
Oh, dance in the dark of night - sing to the morning light
The runes are writ in gold to bring the balance back
At last the sun is shining - the clouds of blue roll by
With flames from the dragon of darkness - the sunlight blinds his eye
Madness! Madness is all I can see! The world hath turned inside out. The stars shine blood red... Men are beasts... Beasts are men... Ashes... Ashes. The End is upon us all... Snakes leering in the void... Dancing a dance of death.
The vision is over. I am without Sight...
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Post by venger on Jan 3, 2011 12:09:10 GMT -5
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Post by Wolfgar on Jan 11, 2011 10:48:34 GMT -5
The second scroll repeats some of Xenka's Prophecies: The dead king shall rise to seize the triad with hands that cannot grasp and eyes that cannot see All wards broken and the mystic barriers pierced with mating swords. Both and neither to triumph. And while the sundered earth spews forth the dregs of centuries, a new order shall come upon the land. |
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Post by venger on Mar 15, 2011 11:28:51 GMT -5
[placeholder for Benesarion's interpretation of the prophecy]
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