The Lost

In the depths of the Cringing Woods

A civilization was lost;

Suddenly their exotic goods

Could not be had at any cost.

The surrounding nations wondered

With what fierce plague they had been crossed.

They feared the thing that had sundered

Them from this once mighty ally

All the foolish few who blundered

In search of the Tourden Valley

Were lost, never heard from again.

None wishing to join the tally,

Soon the Kurai were forgotten.

The memory of them dwindled,

Left only in good fair gotten,

Soon the wonder they had kindled

Was marred with rumor and rotten.

With the passage of time brindled,

The legends of them still remained,

Dark stories told over strong ale.

Though with lies and additions stained,

Their rich savor never grew stale:

The Kurai treasure to be gained

If against demons you prevail.

And so it was that Kent departed,

Seeking the long lost history,

Once the words from lips had darted,

He was drawn in by the story.

He strapped his mighty sword on hip,

Its silver hilt gleaming hoary.

Bow on his back and with tight lip

He strode into the glaring trees.

The king’s men got word of his trip

And so sought their own greed to please.

Calling upon their aged lord

To send armies, treasure to seize.

They enter the wood, a steel horde

Tracking the legendary Kent

Moving swiftly ever toward

The goal on which he is bent

Not knowing of the thousand swords

That behind him the forest rent.

Others of the nearby nations

Did the rumors of Kent heed,

Lacking skill or patience,

They too pursued their greed.

Their armies prepared their rations

And followed where the first did lead.

Kent strove through the wood,

Following roads long dead.

The mystery in his mind did brood

As he was deeper led.

The armies did well,

Having him at their head.

For only he could tell

The way to find the ancient race,

The citadel where they dwell.

So they kept his pace

As he through ruins roamed,

Seeking for the place

The Kurai called their home.

Each township lay dark

The jungle ‘round them grown

Without any sign or mark

To show where the settlers had gone.

Kent left the desolation stark

Making for the capital

Not knowing what he would find

But hoping it would reveal all.

The armies followed him in kind,

Growing tired of the stall,

Desperate for gold, but resigned.

The capital too was overgrown,

No sign of population,

Trees consumed the stone.

But Kent’s sigh of desperation

Was not with silence met

But in rattling swords and exclamation

Did he his answer get.

His sword flashed into his hand

As he at variance was set.

His few foes had great command

Of the unsteady terrain

But all his strength did Kent demand

And so his feet did gain.

The enemy in awe persisted

In the trap they’d lain

But finding themselves well resisted

Began soon to refrain

“Your name?” One insisted

As they stepped back from the feud.

He answer in relief

And a question pursued:

“Why do you assail me as a thief,

With methods sly and crude,

Answer me, spare yourselves grief.”

“Your might and skill we do respect,

But us you have greatly wronged.

What reaction did you expect

With such armies behind you thronged?”

It was then Kent heard the armies,

Eager to end the march prolonged.

It pained his heart to hurt these

Men of such great skill,

Hidden among the ruins and trees.

“I did not know, but I’ll help still

To drive these foes away.

Command, and I will do your will.”

The leader smiled, nothing to say,

And began to lay a plan.

Chaos would be their way,

Manipulated to the man.

For they would each other slay:

Greed and mistrust ran

Wild between the several forces.

As the great city was looted

These two would run their courses.

The enmity deep rooted

Would pull as a thousand horses,

By the few warriors recruited.

A Work in Progress, forgive the delay.