When shall a good man find his rest?\u00a0 When boars fly over oaken tree.
\nWhen shall he work at our behest?\u00a0 As long as blossoms love the bee.<\/p>\n
In the Eastern realm there is a land where women and men are strong as tides. Among this people lives a man – as Eoin an Dore he is known.<\/p>\n
Dependable in every way, good Eoin sets to tasks diverse. He gladly does repair the keep and build the tavern for our sport. He goes as called, on field and off, to battle mighty foes or tournament scores. He maketh cider sweet, but not so sweet as his own disposition.\u00a0 Unassumingle he dons the armor bright and stands the field in tabard gold, sword in hand, to defend his king, his land, his lady.<\/p>\n
Steadily he lands the blow, then can heal the wound. His words calm with knowledge of physic’s humors true. Tending with care to all in need, his steady hand eschews the leech, applies the salve, the poultice, the linen. These selfsame hands hold a steady bow, and strike the target right. To defend, or hunt, or sport does Eoin play, but never boasts, for he is a shining example of what a man ought be.<\/p>\n
And so it is right and good, to bring him to the court this day at King and Queen’s Bardic Championship in Endewearde’s frozen lands, on the fifth of February, anno sociatatis XLV. By the hand of good King Gryffith most sincere, and lovely Queen Aikaterine, we welcome now Eion an Dore, and call him Lord.<\/p>\n
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