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Image for the poem Morcan and the Nathaire - Part 1

Morcan and the Nathaire - Part 1

The drumming of abrupt strides resonates off the worn brick walls of scattered cottages
Daylight has all but succumbed, leaving a gradient of orange and purple clouds across the mountain line
A juvenile courier takes flight through the boundless labyrinthine town  
His awry auburn hair cloaks a fretful brow, but cannot conceal the predominant distress in his eyes
A hastily scrawled summons on ornate parchment fills his white-knuckle clasp
Kicking up an obscure trail of dust and straw out from beneath his heels
Steadfast and hell-bent on reaching what he recalls of the vague destination
Racing daylight for a sake only transcribed in the message he bares
And a safe haven under the weighted boot and vigilance of his monarch, lest he be dismissed...

At the eye of the town resides a meager stone structure weathered by decades of storms and bloodshed
A place to chase down a cruel day with a hearty ale on a fireside stool
The drinks are copious as are the supply of farmers and workaday peasants
As for the barkeep, a tolerance worth its mass in gold outfits him to handle any situation
But none, not even he, could foretell the quick swing of the tavern door
And the opening force behind it being a diminutive little carrier drawing heavy breaths
"I have a... a message for... a mister Morcan... Black..." he wheezed in between huffs of air
"That would be I," the barkeep stepped to the young man and took from him the scroll
Breaking the elegant wax seal and unraveling it over by the warm glare of the fireplace

"To whom it may concern, and should it concern thee dearly, Mr. Black
This beckon for your presence, as I do wish to exchange words with thee discreetly
For perhaps should this note fail to reach the eyes it is intended for
The entire town would unquestionably fall to ruins before the situation could be seen to
And the infant of an envoy would most effortlessly lose his "position of power" here at the castle
But I digress, for it is a task, nay, a service that I beseech of you
For may my memory ring true, I have overlooked certain dilemmas of yours in the past
And this indeed would be a superb instance if you so wished to return the favor
I would suggest you not linger long after receiving my message, should we all forfeit our dwelling here..."  




 

Written by Druid
Published
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