Lord Micah of Brighton Hall, Order of the Tygers Combatant

We bring forth Lord Micah of Brighton Hall, to join as brother those who are as enchanted by the fields of war as he, the Companions of the Order of the Tygers Combatant.  Here we laud his prowess and delight of all that one embraces in the fight. But hear, assembled ones of this fine court, the history of this man whom we exhort:

A farmboy once, as all good
heroes are,
He’d run across the
Northshield fields afar,

A lanky lad then, lean and
fair and tall
With large sticks he would
make the straw man fall.
A sapling bow he used to
keep at bay
The spurred cock whose beak
would ankles flay.
He frightened tinkers
who would tread the land
And helped his family’s
influence expand.

As he grew up, his weapons
did as well
From humble stick to staff,
from straw to pell.
From charging through the
fields of wheat and hay
To charging through the
fields of foes to slay.

He took to hand the axe, the
sword, the pike,
The bow, the mace, the
spear, the brutal spike,
Each one to play and see
what was its art
For each one had its wisdom
to impart.

This noble lad, and brave
and good, but wild,
Was skilled by Eastern men,
whose tempers styled
The man before you here, who
you now see
Into the very tale of
chivalry.

This vibrant one whose joy
upon the field
Has all support within this
order sealed,
Combattant Tygers of
the noble East,
Rejoice today as your ranks
do increase.

You have heard this tale
today, in Birka’s marketplace in the January cold, on the twenty-ninth
day, Anno Societatis
forty-five
in the Barony of Stonemarche.

With pleasure do our brave King Griffith and beauteous Queen Aikaterine sign this writ to
history.

Notes on the piece:

Well, this is what comes of having someone who’s known you a while write your scroll text.  It was the fourth rewrite, I just couldn’t get the tale short enough!  At some point, I will just tell the tale in full and feel like I’ve done my job!

Lord Gwillim Kynith Maunche

Y gwaith a ganmol y gweithiwr.  Cyfoeth pob crefft.*

Fine tokens come from this one’s hand,
His graceful talents in demand.
Bursting from within,
Joyful is our din
Lauds begin through the land.

Now gather Maunche Companions here
for Gwillim Kynith, whose career
brings forth attention
and with contention
ascension with much cheer.

Steady his hand paints glass so red
A hundred men have ate his bread,
Delights us to sing
As sounds soft lute string.
Dancers spring at his tread.

Many find his most pleasant brew
Inspires fine tales both old and new
Which he could transcribe.
But dance and imbibe
and ascribe him his due.

There is no greater thing than art
to wound or soothe, its gifts impart.
One who can so ply
May on art rely
to comply from the start.

By his work the worker is praised;
Every craft is wealth, it is phrased
So beyond measure,
Art, precious treasure,
our pleasure is thus raised.

Granted by the the Companions of the Order of the Maunche, writ by the noble hands of Gryffith King of the Mighty East, and Aiketerine glorious Queen, this January the twenty-ninth anno societatis forty-five, at the Marketplace at Birka in the Barony of Stonemarch.

Notes on the piece:

Y gwaith a ganmol y gweithiwr.
(By his work the worker is praised.)

Uh GWAITH uh GAHN-mole uh GWAY-thyur.
(The AI as I in “might”, the O not *quite* as long as in “mole”, the AY as in “way”).

Cyfoeth pob crefft.
(Every craft is wealth.)

kuh-VOYTH pobe KREFT.
(The “kuh” pretty much as in “k’BOOM”, “pobe” as in “robe” but a bit shorter, the “VOYTH” like “voice” with a lisp).

About the style of the poem:
The clogyrnach [clog-ir-nach] is a Welsh quantitative verse form. It contains 32 syllables in a 6-line stanza. The first couplet contains eight syllables in each line; the second, five; the third, three. (The last couplet may be written as a single, 6-syllable line.) The rhyme scheme is aabbba.

x x x x x x x a  (8)
x x x x x x x a
x x x x b (5)
x x x x b
x x b  x x a (3)

(Thanks to Steven Mesnick for the help with the Welsh selection and pronunciation!)