Volume 1

The Breath of Winter

The snow was white,
The day was cold,
There she lay,
A beast of old.

In a cave next to the sea,
I Froze as her beauty stunned me.
With wings spread like sails,
She stood tall in the icy gale.
Reflecting the sun with her great white scales,
Covering her body to the tip of the tail.

And if you travel to Ice Island,
She can be seen in the skies flying.
Watching over the creatures below,
So brave, so noble, with a pure white glow.

Her eyes shimmer blue and breath numbing to feel,
With razor sharp claws of glacial steel.
Aryn the Frostweaver is her name,
A great white wyrm that feels no pain.

And so about her this poem i told,
Never have i met a being so bold.....

Fury of Fur

Some big, some small,
But yet all stand tall.
With many colours in sight,
Brown, black and white.

Scattered across the landscapes of Sosaria,
These mighty beasts show no fear,
Surviving harsh climates without any gear.

From climbing the snowy moutain peaks,
To foraging the forest floors for grubs to eat.
These creatures make many places their beds,
Sometimes even on people's heads.

Incase you know not yet of what beast i speak,
I talk of ones with claws on their feet,
With fury hides and sharp teeth to eat.

Bears afterall are such brave creatures,
With many inspirational features.

Vesparian Beauty

A city of freedom, a city of wealth,
A great city within itself.
Fairness, equality and freedom it stands for,
Free'd from the royalist shackles it once bore.

A city of bridges, a city of trade,
A city that prospers to this day.
Goods and supplies come in from across the land,
Even from as far as the southern sands.

A city of culture, a city of opportunity,
A city where free people come together in unity.
Within dwells folk from all around,
A sense of place in Vesper they have found.

A city of tradition, a city so grand,
A city surrounded by lush, rich land.
Forests, moutains and fertile ground,
With endless resources to be found.

A city of strength, a city of pride,
A city with a hardened militia by its side.
With magic and steel they fight to protect,
Standing their ground against countless threats.

A city with passion, a city with soul,
A city with ambitious goals.
A city filled with roles and duty,
This truly is Vesparian Beauty.

The Blacksmith

From the ore to the forge,
Magnificent arms and armor to be wore.
Sometimes to supply the cruelty that is war,
But many causes are worth fighting for.

A life by the hammer he leads,
With rough, coarce hands that sometimes bleed.
Meeting steel with steel,
Forging mighty blades that are sharp to feel.

Going head on with moutains using shovel and pickaxe,
Filling his horses packs to the max.
Gathering ore as he goes,
Smelting it down until it glows.

Shaping the metal to his design,
Creating equipment so very divine.
Applying polish to make it shine,
Craftmansip like this takes alot of time.

Only a true blacksmith can make gear so refined,
By using his heart, passion, soul and his mind.
He works long and hard on many days,
May the forge be with you always....

Flight of the Pheonix

Born from the ashes, a flame is lit,
Of a creature so pure, an aura of heat it emits.
A beast that burns with an intensity so extreme,
That shines brighter than a powerful sunbeam.

A bird of beauty, a bird of prey,
A bird with gorgeous colours gay.
A bird that looks like it just stepped out of a dream,
The Phoenix really does reign supreme.

Alot of people share a burning desire,
To see this magnificent bird's soul of fire.
Lighting even the deepest darkness,
Viewable even with blindness.

Releasing sparkling embers as it moves,
With a gallant cry that gently soothes.
Spreading its great wings preparing to inflict,
The wonderful sight that is the flight of the Phoenix.

The Great Yew Tree

Towering above the lush forests of Yew,
The rest of the trees they outgrew.
They stand sturdy and true,
Waiting patiently with a gorgeous brown hue.

Sometimes you can hear their whispers travel,
But often drowned out by the sound of battle.
At times you can even hear the crash of one hit the floor,
Used to fuel the fires of war.

How can such magnificence be ignored,
Just to make a few bloody boards.
This is nature in its strongest form,
With breathtaking beauty that will take you by storm.

Helping the woods to florish,
They are the shepards of the forest.
Oh what a wonderful view,
The great trees of Yew.