The Singing Arrow of Gilmarin
(Tuathan children’s song, translated into common)
In days of yore, of battle famed
A bowyer, Gilmarin he was named
A Tuathan of simple birth
A treasurer of songs and mirth
He dreamed that the arrow’s cry
Should instead sing as it flies
to rally the hearts of friends
and speed enemies to their end.
Tuatha’s song since the creation
the last sound heard in decimation
of the Blackflight orcs, eternal foes
Victory shouts in their throes.
He crafted arrows with bardic song
his pure voice clear and strong
When the very last arrow glowed
The enchantment was fully bestowed.
An army of warriors and mages
Tuathan people of all ages
departed from the forest
to aid the humans’ quest
The battlefield littered with dead
All hearts were filled with dread
The orcs were gaining each day
and hope had long passed away.
The leaf-fletched arrow flew
From its searing path grew
a rising song of hope
As Tuathans crested the slope
Blackflight Orcs heard the refrain
Turned to leave the battle plain
As sharply as that shaft struck
Into their leader, Khar’surauk.
The mortals cheered, hearts renewed
The song with hope imbued
Their strikes were swift and clean
Felling orcs both fierce and mean.
All the while the song rose
filling the air around our foes
Song of the Root, Tuathan pride
Singing victory for our side.
Gilmarin Ysari’s arrow sailed
and goodness won where it may have failed.
The tide was turned, as was told
By the power of combining both new and old.