'Twas the night before Bannerlord

'Twas the night before Bannerlod, when all through the house

Not a Sturgian was stirring, not even a Hus;

The drinking was done out of skulls with great care,

In hopes that St. Jeremus might possibly be there;

The Battanians were hidden all snug in the trees,

While visions of ambush would find its way to release;

And King Harlaus in Praven, and I on campaign,

Had invited all Lords, for some butter with grain

When out in Caladria, there arose such a clatter

We all got to seige, with much more than a ladder.

Away to the trebuchet I drew back a cache,

And released flaming boulders, I’ll turn them to ash.

The moon glistening off armor of quivering foes,

Gave lust to my axe hand, to deliver great blows,

When, what to my pillaging eyes should appear,

Reinforcements arrive, grinning with a great sneer,

With heavy crossbow and armor, not lively and quick,

I knew in a moment what would do the trick,

More rapid than eagles my coursers they came, (didn't even have to change this line)

And I whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, BORCHA! now, BUNDUK! now, ROLF! and now NIZAR!

On, YMIRA! on MARNID! on, KLETHI! and ART’NER!

With the tips of your lances, or pull back and draw,

But dash away! dash away! dash away their heads all!"

As they rode after me, obeying their orders,

A battle cry came, “THATS A NICE HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDERS!”

So into the Arbalesters, the coursers they flew,

They charged all at once, as I skipped over F2!

And then, after gasping their last breaths of air,

These Rhodoks all laid with a blank empty stare,

As I drew in the reigns, and was turning around,

Down the field St. Jeremus came with a bound!

He was dressed in great armor, from his head to his foot,

But the joke was on him, he must always stay put;

A bundle of bandages he pulled out of his sack,

Men all around dying, but he'd still take a crack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! His tonsure so smooth!

And the injuries around me he started to soothe!

My blood covered fist tightly grabbing my bow,

I turned back to the castle to reap what they sowed;

Heels dug into my courser, and gritting my teeth,

We charged again towards the battle, to enter the keep!;

Mace crashing on skulls, sword stabbed into belly,

That shook, when removed spilling all of their jelly.

They were chubby and plump, and slow to defend,

And I laughed when I saw them keel over and bend;

A wink of my eye and a twist of my head,

Soon reassured the villagers they had nothing to dread;

I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,

Meddling over were I should spend this perk,

And choosing persuasion, to win more to my side,

I knew this would help me find followers with pride!

I then sprang to my mount, and let out a loud whistle,

And away we all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I have to exclaim to you each errant Knight!,

HAPPY HARVESTING TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-FIGHT!

Submitted March 29, 2020 at 07:17AM by PrinceHansel https://ift.tt/2QThZcM