“This ode was made when Astrid needed our help for Malagentia in the Great Northeastern War, and we hadn’t been asked (or thought we’d not been asked) and she was sure we had been. So I imagined what might have happened to the heralds who had been sent forth to ask for our aid.”
The Leader of the neighbor realm
called his heralds into court
“We’ve a need that’s dire in nature,
and desire for brave support!”
Thus the Heralds were commanded
to deliver impassioned plea.
So up the road that pointed north
on mighty mounts went three…
What became of those good heralds
now we at last shall see.
The first and eldest Herald
cleared his mighty throat to speak,
when his senses were betrayed
by the smell of cooking leeks.
He headed toward the kitchen
pushing quickly through the group,
there was a loud metallic rattle
followed by a joyful whoop…
The last time that we saw him
he was bathing in the soup!
Thus Herald two began the speech
for the folk of Endewearde
but the pretty lass a winking
made rememb’ring rather hard.
A fierce look from her mother
brought the second lad around
but to his own amazement,
he couldn’t make a sound….
And now he’s either married
or he’s buried underground!
The way was long and dangerous
Herald three barely survived!
He passed by the water tower
quite relived he had arrived.
The populace did gather
at the the shaking Herald’s hail
and took him to the mead hall
to listen to his tale…
He never made it back for he’s
still drunk on Godric’s ale!
So war loomed for the neighbor land
and the people did not know.
They had a cook and wedding
and a brand new bard to show.
Finally the question came
from a Lady very high,
and who would dare refuse to help
when asked by Valker-aye?
Oh we would not refuse to help
when asked by Valker-aye!