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.