Forester

a poem (2001-2002)

This is a mythological poem that is also related to the Edion Campaign. I think the style might be called an "epic ballad". The first section is in iambic quadrameter. The second section is in iambic pentameter, and I think that meter worked better. Skip right to the good part

Once there was a forester

who lived in north Grenhaur.
He roamed across his lands and kept
all the evil beasts at bay.

He prosecuted poachers, and
he kept the forest safe, so
his lord could hunt and roam the land
and entertain the visiting kings.

The forester's name, it was Galdraung.
He was a quiet man, and he
was ugly too, with lanky arms
a bent nose and little manners,

few friends in town, but he
could walk so far and fast that he
did never give a care to that.
Galdraung was knowing of his faults,

and did not try to fix them, for
he satisfied was with his life
deep in the woods, and many a year
he kept the forest safe and kept

but to himself, happy in
his lonely way. Then one day
a-passing through a thick copse
of trees he passed a dell from which

there sweetly came a gentle breeze
that carried scent that never before
had Galdraung smelt, and pause he did
and sniffed the air there all about

The scent was lilac in the spring,
and drew Galdraung towards the dell
which he observed from hidden post
among the trees in the thick woods.

And there he saw a beautiful damsel
naked as he was upon
the very day that he was born,
frolicking in the little stream.

Galdraung transfix-ed was, and stood
as still as if a tree among
the trees, with only locks of hair
stirring in the gentle breeze.

He stood there and the maiden did
not seem to see him among the trees.
Galdraung did watch for hours there,
or was it days? Time did not seem

to pass. For certainly the sun
was longer and the dell was hung
in shadow by the time the maiden
donned her gown and looked around.

As her gaze did pass him by
Galdraung a flinch could not avoid.
He felt an arrow pierce his soul.
Her beauty like a willow was,

was like a birch, her skin was almost
white, so smooth, her lips were thin.
She had a look of sadness slight
around her eyes, but even still

her body had buds of beauty, like
a lilac. She was slender and graceful,
when she moved it seemed as though
she left a trail of glitter dust

behind her hanging in the air.
As Galdraung flinched he rustled a branch.
The maiden fixed her eyes on him.
For a moment, she took a breath

in sharp intake, then sprang away
full like a doe. She ran away
through densest woods, passing 'tween
the trees, though barely leaving tracks

her bare feet flying as she fled
away, away, full from Galdraung
who quickly made a hot pursuit.
He could not let this maiden get

away. She was the finest doe
that he had ever seen, he must
have her, smitten he was, by love
that was instant, and would never leave him.

As long as life in him remained
Galdraung would love her, maiden in
the woods. Her name Iselda was
and she herself was elf-maiden

come from the Deepest Forest, the Edion
Forest, little known outside
except to say that it is where
no man could go and then return.

She fled into the forest where she thought
she would be safe, but seized with want Galdraung
pursued, and in pursuing sealed his fate,
for none have ever wandered in that woods

and then returned; Galdraung knew well it was
a journey he could never overturn.
He followed her for many miles long
and over brook, and under branch she led,

by tree and bush, and ever just ahead
of him she ran, as though she wished for him
to follow but for him to never catch
her up. Galdraung made chase, and though she like

a doe was swift, a hunter used to long
and tiresome jogs was he and he kept up.
Before him he could ever see her gown,
a glimmer of white 'mongst forest colours dull.

The chase went on for weeks or months, or days
perhaps. But though he never caught her up,
always just in sight she was as ever
eastwards she did fly, into the woods.

More peril did he risk in following
the farther into that strange wood he went,
for he was stranger to this land and thus
was barred from entering into it.

Towards the mountains in the east she fled
through deepest forest, here where giant trees
did dwell. Then up the creepy crawling vines
she sprang, to dance across the branches in

the rooftop of the forest. Galdraung boldly
followed. Risking life and neck, he sprung
up after her and did pursue the maid
ever upwards, ever onwards, towards

the ancient peaks that did divide the east
of this vast continent from west. She ran
so lightly, almost like her footsteps never
fell upon the branches, for never did

they bend beneath her weight, so light she must
have been, or else possessing power that
Galdraung did not, for each branch bent below
his weight. Some branches even broke: Galdraung

plummeted down, but caught himself on vines
or branches lower down and by his strength
he climbed back up and ever followed her,
his flower. Finally she reached the foot

of hills and there she ran straight up the slope
among the thinning trees, until she reached
a rocky bluff, whereon she vanished 'tween
two stones, as though she faded right away.

Galdraung caught up and sat between the stones,
howling. He had lost from sight his love,
eternal flower, she who now that he
had seen, he could but never again forget.

He could no longer picture her in mind,
but in that space there was an ache, so desperate
real, that he could go no further, so
he lay him down, there to the end await.

Then there beside him, deep inside the nook
between the rocks he saw a hidden crack,
a fissure opening like a cave. Inside,
a passage that lead down into the dark.

He followed down, and there, at the last light
in the last beam of light that pierced the cave,
discovered a small shred of her white gown,
that glimmered on the rock where it had torn.

Now Galdraung made a whoop and calling out
unto his love, he sped right down the shaft.
Deep underground he went and in great haste,
but without sight he fell down many times,

but ever rose and ever continued on.
Finally into a yawning chasm
he plummeted. He had not seen it in the dark,
and fell into the darkness, seemingly

without an end and at the bottom struck
a cold, hard water. All was at
an end. He knew of nothing. Dreams did fly
away and there was only coldness left.

A few faint whispers haunted him, and faint
illusions only did provide him with
companionship. All was dark and all
was silent, as never is heard above.

He stirred at last, and found that he was cold.
With carefulness he opened up his eyes.
He could but hardly see a thing, wherever
he looked, the darkness, like a shroud, did veil

him in upon all sides. He lay upon
a hard, hard rock. 'Twas flat and perfect smooth,
without a crack, and polished fine, and from
the sound of a drip and drop he fully heard

that water was nearby. The feel of wind
both cold and fresh that blew upon his face
did tell Galdraung that he was at the bottom
of a well. The wind upon his face

did tell him of a exit near at hand.
But he cared not to think of leaving now,
for in the darkness was a vision like
a winsome maid, the very girl who nude

before him had appeared in forest dell.
The apparition moved with grace but shyness
too, with fear but yet desire too.
Around the edge of sight she moved about,

But Galdraung was too weary still, his head
was still on fire. In sleep the vision came
close up to him, and bent above his head,
her beautiful figure in glowing robes attired.

Her cheek was white like satin is, her eyes
like diamonds glowed, her breath a blossomy scent
did bear, as though it was a warm spring breeze.
She gently blew upon his frigid brow,

and gently from his body fled the deathly
chilling freeze. And it was like the smell
of lilacs among the summer garden trees.
As she breathed, then all his cares did ease.

Now with a sudden start he woke! His limbs
were fully charged, his strength renewed, he was
refreshed. He felt like new. And suddenly
right there he saw the vision was revealed.

There was no ghost. The lovely maid was there
in flesh, near touching him, then pulling away,
and springing across the room, and disappearing
down another secret passage, dark.

He followed of course, what else could he but do?
His heart strings pulled as if she held in hand
those very strings, and as she drew away
they tightened 'round and drew him up to stand.

After her now, he entered in a maze
with passages that led him round and 'round,
and never signs did lead, each wall the same,
yet on his heart strings pulled him, down and down.

He drew at last into a cavern deep,
and in the center sat the lovely maid,
upon a pedestal high above the floor
to which high place could be no passage made.

Galdraung cried out, but she him paid no heed;
she heeded none, for she sat all in swoon,
her head was bowed, her dress was gathered round,
and she was silent as the silver moon.

Galdraung ran up and beat against the stone,
the pillar tall and white that showed no crack,
so smooth that he could gain no purchase on't,
too wide for even his great arms to wrap.

He bellowed out his love, but knew no words
of sweetness, tenderness, fondness which could wake
this maid so close to reach and yet too far
from grasp, to roughly from her reverie shake.

Anent he lay him at the base and he
began to cry. Never since he had been
a child had tears streaked down his check, nor had
he ever felt such fear, such rending
sorrow, since he left his mothers arms.

His life since then had been indeed untouched
by any fear, by any loss, by love,
emotion; hard had been his heart, and cold.
A dozen poachers in the woods he'd killed.

In firm and lawful justness he had dwelt.
Not once he looked into their dying eyes
and saw the pain, not once he felt a pang
against their suffering families, never guilt

did sneak into his heart, for he was cold.
And equally none had ever loved Galdraung,
For who could love a man like him, low birth
besides, but also cruel and heartless too.

Upon all this Galdraung reflected him.
It seemed the tears welled from his eyes for days.
And maybe it was so, for as he cried,
the tears beneath him formed into a puddle.

And then the puddle turned into a pool.
And then the pool did fill the cavern room.
And then the pool became a lake. It rose
around his ears, but still he cried and cried.

As Galdraung cried the water lifted up
his body till he reached the pedestal top,
the lady sitting there. He clambered up
but still she would not move. Her eyes were closed,
she did not seem to breathe, was frozen still.

So close to her, elated he became,
but now he saw that she was still not his.
She sat in frozen silence, and it seemed
as though she would remain that way fore'er.

The forester stared at her for many days,
and still in all that time she never moved.
Then moved himself he saw in all his life
the sorrow and the pain that he had caused.

He saw the meanness he had been. He could
not right it. Never wrong but could he do,
and never could he have her. Pity for
himself was all he felt. In pity now

a single tear welled from his eye and dropped
upon the pedestal beneath her feet.
And then a wondrous hap'ning did occur,
as though the tear itself could magic work.

At once, the pedestal began to melt
away, from where the tear did fall; it faded
until the stone was gone. And then what did
occur? But so the magic spread so fast

the maiden's leg and then her body whole
grew gray, and then grew black. And then as though
it were a snake's, her skin did break away,
and fell into the water, hissing.

Exposed beneath the skin was not as one
might think, with horror on the mind, a sight
of gruesome death, but rather beauty bright:
a shining body lay beneath that skin.

With all the weight now gone, the wearies of
the world cast off, the black skin all curled up,
dissolved into the tears, the light rose up
and whirled about the room. It flew so high

it cast its glimmer on the cieling high
then swooping down set foot so light upon
the surface of the lake that it did float.
And then the figure bent to touch his face.

She embraced him, sweetness, joy and love
did him surround. Of a sudden he was standing
on the ground once more, completely dry,
and all the tears had faded from the room.

The woman was before him once again,
the maiden sweet. But this time she was glowing
with an inner light as though beneath
the surface dwelled a being of light. And there

upon her face there was a glow that came
from him. Surprised, he looked so quickly down
to see himself now all aglow. A light
Was shining through his skin. No longer ugly

was Galdraung. Though ugliness remained,
it mattered not. For he could see that under-
neath there was a body of pure light.
His body, and his light.

In brightness all it shone, and he felt blessed,
felt freed. For there about his body lay
the blackened skin that he had shed, when all
the tears that he had shed did fade away.

The two embraced, and merged as one, and merging
grew brighter ever than before had glowed
two hearts. Indeed they merged into one star
and slowly then they rose up from the floor.

No strength to hold them in did now mere rock
display, nor hidden streams; not soil, nor trees
did cage them in, for up they rose through all
of these, until they rose through empty air.

Above the mountains rose their star, until
they were so high that they could see the whole
of Edion. The glimmer of starshine was
their light, by which they saw quite soon indeed

The ocean entire, and all the land in night's
great splendour. High they were, so high that with
their light they were now counted among the stars
that glimmer ever on as jewels bright.

There in the sky they did remain, and there
they are today. A bright star to redeem
cold hearted men and women everywhere
and thaw their frozen hearts.

For those unmov-ed people they shine on
and hope them to inspire, and thus bring greater
happiness to all the world, and they
are known today as the star of Gladrung.

For glad did ring the praises of Galdraung
unto his love as they rose up, and still
this night, they say, if listen you with care,
then you can hear his praises if you try.