The Death of Sturm

Enjoy this reading of The Death of Sturm – Pryderi of Abanasinia, Known as the Bard of Ansalon from More Leaves from the Inn of the Last Home edited by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. You can pick up a physical or digital copy from DriveThruRPG Here: https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/204205/More-Leaves-from-the-Inn-of-the-Last-Home-2e?affiliate_id=50797

The Death of Sturm

Pryderi of Abanasinia,
Known as the Bard of Ansalon

A knight of noble bearing, stood on battlements gray,
ever forward staring, awaiting his fate this day.
An ancient sword and ancient mail, heirlooms of a father lost,
to succeed and not to fail, but what would be the cost?
To live and to die, for a knighthood falling,
look to the clouds where dragons fly, death is ever calling.

Alone stood the knight, and on came a dragon blue,
he stayed to fight, and for his death he knew.
A dragon’s loud shrill cry, his rider calm and steady,
down they charged from the sky, at the knight standing ready.
His sword swung low, but his foe did not relent,
and the spear struck a blow, that through his body went.
An elf maiden’s grief, like clouds o’er the sun,
a sadness that will not be brief, and sorrow that will never be done.

The highlord speaks, and the elf stands still,
the dragon shrieks, but does not kill.
As Evil flies away, the elf holds the spear,
that killed the knight this day, that killed one so dear.
More gaping is the wound, left by words of hate,
she finds her heart doomed, that He is lost to fate.

She stands on battlements gray, in the chill of winter night,
sorrowed by that day, saddened by her plight.
Falling down her cheek, drops a single tear,
the cold wind creaks, and blows away her fear.
Like ice in summer’s light, like dragons of a winter night.

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