Lansyters poem of the Nightfires
A Night by Bright Pools
Burning river feeds lake of fire,
Eternal beacon, or funeral pyre.
Whose tale told, on quiet wave,
whose spririt lost, what future save.
Your source, the light of crags on high,
your blood the tears the Fangstones cry.
Illumin all who walk your shore,
the swordsman cold, the traveller poor.
And waters warm where feet may slip,
but woe to those who cup-to-lip.
Your whisper, stirs my camp at night,
you challenge the dawn with earthbound light.
What souls have camped upon this beach,
plans well laid, goals to reach.
What final songs cross waters sung,
so few returned in windblown tongue.
My rest complete I stand aright,
campfire done the end to night.
And set upon this mountain track,
To home, FirstCity, I journey back.
The above entries were from Lansyters log of his
first explorations into the FangStones after their creation.
His travels lasted 2 seasons, covering most of the range.
This piece was his closing entry. At this point he settled
in RavensClose and dedicated himself to husbandry of flora
and fauna.
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