(OOC: Before we begin, I am going to state that I am quite incapable of writing poetry. Please bear with me.
)
Passages from
The Cycle of Mael Coluim:
[The Departure of the Men-at-Arms]
A thund'rous roar swept o'er the hills:
the sound of thirty thousand men
marching under Mael Coluim's banner.
The Galloglaigh, noble men,
men of substance and unequaled bravery
marching to war under their lord's banner;
behind them, the common men,
the men of foot, spears in hand,
ready for the coming battle.
The din of thirty thousand spears
echoed through the hills and forests
of noblest Caledonia.
Behold my King's host off to the war
under the banner of Prince Mael Coluim.
[First Contact]
Between Brigantea and noble Caledonia lies
no boundary ordained by the gods of Nature
but one drawn by man's unsteady hand alone.
Such boundaries are illusions;
no spirit rose to protest the intrusion
of Mael Coluim's host
into the land of the Brigantes.
But the men of Brigantea did protest
and took up arms, to resist my Prince.
The fools! They could not know
the might of Mael Coluim's arms.
The enemy host was an army as surely
as a bundle of twigs is a goddess' sacred grove.
One thousand lives were split upon
the claymore's well-honed edge.
The first day belonged to Mael Coluim.
[Caerstrean]
The city of the Brigantes loomed
upon the horizon as a dark cloud,
a portent of the coming tempest.
Caledonia's brave warriors rallied
under the wind-whipped banner
of Prince Mael Coluim.
The host of the Brigantes
was assembled upon the plain
arrayed against my lord
in defense of their city.
The Galloglaigh drew
their cruel two-hand swords
and advanced against their enemy
behind the chariot of Mael Coluim.
[The Brigantes Repel the First Attack]
O! how the battle
taxes the noblest most heavilly!
Caledonian men are fallen
upon the tips of Brigantean spears.
The first men of the clans,
the stout hearts who led the charge,
are the first to drink death's icy draught.
The Galloglaigh are repulsed!
In all corners men retreat.
The sons of Dal'Riata are
pushed back upon their camp
by the Brigantean host.
The warriors have assembled anew
under the banner of Mael Coluim.
[The Epiphany]
The fire that burns for the glory of battle
was fading in the hearts of Mael Coluim's men.
The ramparts of Caerstrean
stood strong as before,
defended by a wall of
bold-hearted warriors.
The day seemed lost.
Then, praise God!
the sun rose high into heaven
though it was the first night,
and the battlefield was illuminated
by the brilliance of the immortal Sun
and Mael Coluim could see clearly
where before he had been blind.
And below the golden sphere
a ghostly script writ in heaven
read: "Victory under this sign."
Praise and glory unto the Immortal Sun!
Mael Coluim shed the vestments of paganry
and through off all superstitions and false beliefs.
On his shield he drew an orb of gold
and the same he commanded unto the Galloglaigh.
Some of the common men followed their example
and laid the mark of the Sun upon their shields.
This was the glorious sign
revealed to Mael Coluim.
[Mael Coluim Breaks the Enemy's Formation by the Blessing of Sol Invictus]
See the Galloglaigh standing tall
like ten thousand sturdy trees,
a forest of strength in the midst of battle.
But trees can not run,
as the Galloglaigh did
charging into the ranks of their enemy
with the ferocity of men possessed.
How many Brigantes did their swords lay low
like fallen timbers in the forests of the north?
Neither spear nor arrow could pierce their shields;
the protection of Sol was upon every warrior.
The captains of the Brigantes were cut down
without respect to rank or seniority;
no prince was spared the bite of
the Galloglaigh's swift blades.
Panic ensued amongst the shattered host
and ten thousand men were chased down
upon the spears of the pursuing victors
against the walls of sullen Caerstrean.
Glorious Sun, light of the universe,
breaker of armies and Lord of Caledonia,
on this day You brought victory
into the hands of your servant Mael Coluim.
[The Triumphal Return to Dal'Riata]
One hundred she-asses laden with gold
another one hundred carrying silver.
Chariots, and armours,
and precious things from heathen temples
were only a fraction of the spoils
Mael Coluim paraded into Dal'Riata.
The emerald hills of Pictavia resounded
with the joyous cheers of the admiring masses
who lined the way as the army marched home.
Only days before the bells had rung in sorrow.
The High King of Caledonia was dead.
He who departed an untested Prince
returned to his capital a victorious King.
Glory to Sol, may He bless Dal'Riata
and High King, the Victor, Mael Coluim.
