The Ballad of Artham

This is a tale of Artham O’Carrick

A ballad of his incredible merit.

Artham the bard, the hero of old,

Artham the great, the humble, the bold

He once was summoned to quaint Caloro

To fight against an overwhelming foe

A dragon black, mighty Faethon

And Faethon was full of cunning, guile, and brawn.

The people of Caloro were dreadful afraid

And not one warrior of that town stayed.

Nay, none but Artham O’Carrick

Artham the fair, the strong, the quick

He girded himself, prepared for war

Grabbed his flute, which was like none before

Hefted his halberd, heavy and long

Donned his armor, firm and strong

He marched out to Faethon, bold and alone

With risk and danger fully known

As he went forward, he sounded a song

A song of war, a song for the strong

As he drew near to Faethon with fear,

He was encouraged by music in his ear

The closer he drew to Faethon’s lair,

The sky grew blacker, with smoke and fire in air.

Then, at last, he came before the dragon

Fiery wyrm against human champion

Faethon tried to taunt fair Artham,

But he was unmoved, he was full of wisdom

Artham waited no longer and wove his spell

He began to speak, his voice began to swell

His words of power struck Faethon like blows

They shook the great wyrm down to his marrow.

Yet Faethon was no lesser wyrm

And he reared back his head with intent to burn

He belched lava and spit fire

But these Artham dodged, as yet, without tire

Artham responded with a fell tune

A melody of destruction and ruin

The earth quaked and trees fell,

But Faethon weathered it well.

At this, foul Faethon grew enraged

And swiped away at Artham, doing damage

The bard’s flute was knocked from his hands

And Artham began to fear for these lands.

Yet courageous Artham did not give up

He grabbed up his halberd and stood up

He stood defiantly against such cruel violence

His stance was rooted and firm was his countenance

Artham and Faethon continued to battle

But Artham realized he was in trouble

Faethon had stamina impossible to fathom

And his blows were far stronger than any of Artham’s

So Artham decided, with grim resolve

No matter the cost, Caloro to absolve

So with one final, desperate blow

Our hero struck, to overthrow

His halberd connected, piercing scales

The heart of the dragon was then impaled

But, alas, as Faethon writhed in his throes

He struck out hard at his fatal foe.

Artham was stricken, and thus he fell.

To heal himself, he would have cast a spell,

But his instrument had been lost to him

And so, Artham O’Carrick’s eyes grew dim.

The next morning the people of Caloro

Came out to find their fallen hero.

He was laid out on the ground, beneath blue skies

The people let loose, grief stricken cries.

There were many odes and dirges sung

And that day every head was hung.

The greatest bard in all of history

Had died to set Caloro free.

And so the name of Artham O’Carrick

Faded into legend, became just a lyric.

It’s said that one day, his spirit will come back

And slay the final dragon black.