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Post by Bunny-Rabbit on Jul 14, 2007 3:24:47 GMT -5
Lord Baldwin Lannister has put forward a large reward for the artist who tells the best story, sings the best song, or writes the best poem. All are welcome to compete for this significant prize. Submit your work here and it will be judged by popular acclaim.
Good luck, and good stories.
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Post by Bunny-Rabbit on Jul 14, 2007 15:36:27 GMT -5
Lynel the Fool of Lannisport steps forward and recites,
Lion ran home to the Rock.
He had left the stag's flock.
Trapped between flower and Trout
The Lion prepared to shout.
The Stag screamed betrayal aloud.
The Lion has never been cowed.
The Spear took the garden
the Lion prepared his den
The Stag and Horde marched west
The Lion prepared his best.
The Stag gored the Lion deep
But none could take this Keep.
Spear and dragon came fast.
In a fiery breath he did blast.
The stag fell on that day.
And his men were forced to pay
His forces destroyed at that Door!
Said the lion, "Hear me Roar!
Lynel bows to a chorus of jeers, applause and laughter.
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Post by serdonaltyrell on Jul 17, 2007 6:30:29 GMT -5
On the table is found this anonymous note, hastily scribbled on parchment:
There was a young lady of Royce
Who’s looks were rather choice
With a face so fair
And a marvellous derriere
Which is a shame as she had a really annoying voice
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2007 6:43:19 GMT -5
OOC: You are so mean  |
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Post by House Lefford on Jul 17, 2007 18:25:25 GMT -5
ooc : haha donal wins
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Post by Lilith Royce on Jul 18, 2007 13:37:51 GMT -5
When the cheers and jeers and doggrel seemed to die down, one of the bards started reading a rather dreary poem that had anonymously arrived by messenger. He figured it was a good way to put the crowd to sleep. [shadow=green,left,300]The Song of the Road[/shadow] The wheels begin to turn Past lush woods And green rolling fields The trip has just begun The land flattens Canyons of corn rise up And bales of hay Lay resting under golden sun The fabric wrinkles once again Mountain bones begin to show Home draws near And arrives with the shards of the setting sun ------------------------ Some sketches arrived with the poem and were duly passed around leilarambles.blogspot.com/2007/07/song-of-road.html |
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Post by Lord Rhodri Arryn on Jul 18, 2007 18:49:19 GMT -5
After the bard steps down, the Lady Cortesse Horpe approaches the stage. Lady Cortesse is a striking women; her beauty is refined and elegant, though her expression slightly distant. She is tall and regal, as tall as many men; her hair is raven black and she stands in a gown made of gray silk. Two silver moths hold her silver velvet cape to her shoulders. Many know her as the "Gray Lady", a woman now famous for refusing suitors, despite being the last of her line.
"I would like to read a sonnet. It is dedicated to the brave women who stood in the Rock as the battle commenced, and tended to the wounded. They saved near as many lives as swords did end, and they should be honored as high as any veteran."
She reads:
To the rock, to the rock the Lion's men said
We must defend, we must hold our walls
Against the coming Stags and storms and dread
Here we will stand, here we shall guard our halls
The men hefted spears, swords and bows of yew
At the barbican to stop the Fury
The women rose, and said "we can aid you
With red wounds dressed, the less we shall bury"
To the Lions and Runemen all bloodied
The ladies came and cleansed their blood and gory
To save the lives of the men now muddied
To those heroines, there goes the glory
Sing them the praises that they now deserve
For they have shown and countenanced their nerve
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Hope you all are well and happy.