A poem that Willow reads while in Kroz.
(Nordika) (Willow) (Writings)
---

The Three Maimed Mercenaries

    One dark cold winter, many many years ago,
    There were the Jupani mercenaries three.
    They had come from Himar, and were passing through Kroz,
    On their way to find work in Gallis.

    These were no ordinary warriors, for they'd seen many battles,
    Though not heroes, as heroes will go.
    For in the course of those battles, they'd each received a wound,
    From a particular and crippling blow.

    The first was called Nose, for he had none, you see.
    He could not scent as the Jupani do.
    But he was tall, he was fierce, he was three times as strong,
    As would be one like me or like you.

    The second was called Ears, for he had none, you see.
    He could not hear as the Jupani do.
    But he was quick, he was agile, he was three times as fast,
    As would be one like me or like you.

    The third was called Eyes, for he had none, you see.
    He could not see as the Jupani do.
    But he was smart, he was alert, he was three times as patient,
    As would be one like me or like you.

    Their purses were empty, and so were their bellies,
    And they could not pick aught from the field.
    So they came to a village that lived quite in fright,
    So they asked if they could work for a meal.

    A snicjer the villagers said was eating their cattle,
    And sometimes their children by night.
    They'd pay many shekels, and give meat and give wine,
    To any who could slay this foul blight.

    Nose stepped forward, boldly accepting the challenge.
    "I am Nose, for you see I have none.
    I cannot scent the way Jupani do, but I need not a nose to swing my sword,
    And by the morrow, you'll know I have won."

    "My nose does not matter, my nose won't cause trouble,
    For I tell you I certainly can hear,
    For quite unlike my comrade, may the fates bless his soul,
    I have two quite perfectly good ears."

    "My nose does not matter, my nose won't cause trouble,
    For I tell you I certainly can see,
    For quite unlike my comrade, may the fates bless his soul,
    I won't be accidentally hitting trees."

    "My nose does not matter, my nose won't cause trouble,
    For in my mind, I can certainly smell,
    The sweet tangy aroma, of the shedding of blood,
    From every last snicjer I fell."

    The villagers were pleased, they rejoiced and they sang,
    And they told him the way to the stones.
    For the snicjers, he took some steel, a sword sharp and true,
    For only cold of metal can still their creaking bones.

    Nose went into the wood, and he waited and waited.
    The foul snicjers did come by and by.
    They went "snic, snic, snic, snic." He went "whack, whack, whack, whack,"
    But they were always in the corner of his eye.

    Down went Nose, and the snicjers laughed loudly,
    The womenfolk wept and they cried,
    For when the snicjers laughed, it was quite for sure,
    That brave warrior Nose lost and died.

    Ears stepped forward, boldly accepting the challenge.
    "I am Ears, for you see I have none.
    I cannot hear the way Jupani do, but I need not an ear to swing my sword,
    And by the morrow, you'll know I have won."

    "My ears do not matter, my ears won't cause trouble,
    For I tell you I certainly can see,
    For quite unlike my comrade, may the fates bless his soul,
    I won't be accidentally hitting trees."

    "My ears do not matter, my ears won't cause trouble,
    For I tell you I certainly can smell,
    For quite unlike my comrade, may the fates rest his soul,
    I track beasts by scent alone as well."

    "My ears do not matter, my ears won't cause trouble,
    For in my mind I can certainly hear,
    The satisfying shriek, that crying of anguish,
    As I rend snicjers from gullet to rear."

    The villagers were pleased, they rejoiced and they sang,
    And they told him the way to the stones.
    For the snicjers, he took some steel, a sword sharp and true,
    For only cold of metal can still their creaking bones.

    Ears went into the wood, and he waited and waited.
    The foul snicjers did come by and by.
    They went "snic, snic, snic, snic." He went "whack, whack, whack, whack,"
    But they were always in the corner of his eye.

    Down went Ears, and the snicjers laughed loudly,
    The womenfolk wept and they cried,
    For when the snicjers laughed, it was quite for sure,
    That brave warrior Ears lost and died.

    Eyes stepped forward, boldly accepting the challenge.
    "I am Eyes, for you see I have none.
    I cannot hear the way Jupani do, but I need not an eye to swing my sword,
    And by the morrow, you'll know I have won."

    "My eyes, yes they matter, my eyes may cause trouble,
    For I tell you I can't see a thing,
    But quite unlike my comrades, may the fates rest their souls,
    I know when to wait, and when to swing."

    The villagers were desperate, they didn't rejoice,
    And they told him the way to the stones.
    For the snicjers, he took some steel, a sword sharp and true,
    For only cold of metal can still their creaking bones.

    Eyes went into the wood, and he waited and waited.
    The foul snicjers did come by and by.
    They went "snic, snic, snic, snic." He went "whack, whack, whack, whack,"
    And they were never in the corner of his eye.

    For while the snicjers closed in, and they struck with their claws,
    They didn't vanish when he looked with his eyes,
    For he used just his nose and his ears and his sense,
    And he caught those foul snicjers by surprise.

    Down went the snicjers, and Eyes laughed quite loudly,
    The womenfolk wept and made a cheer,
    For when the wolf laughed, it was quite for sure,
    That they'd no longer hear the snicjers' jeer.

    And so Eyes found his friends, and he buried them there,
    And for headstones, he used their steel swords,
    And he took just a moment to make a mumble of prayer,
    To say goodbyes with a few private words.

    And in the village, they thanked him, and fed him and paid him,
    And then they sent Eyes on his way,
    And never again would they underestimate a blind man,
    Not even to this very day.

---

GMed by Greywolf

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Today is 5 days after Candlemass, Year 29 of the Reign of Archelaus the First (6128)