Tales O' Skogen: The Priest, The Serpent, And The Sellsword Poem by Joshua Lee

Ye listen and ye stay
For when ye with Skogen ye’re best to obey
Skogen speaks now o’ a man none could slay

Strunferth, ye Strunferth, that twas’ his name
And fool! Propound ye if twas’ any greater
And ye fool ye are, there was none even o’ the same

Strunferth, he fought with sword and spell
But no knight was he, righteousness had he none
Gold be his gods-given token, his blade his own to sell

Alleigance to not one
-Or any one!
He was a maker o’ his own fun

To no king or queen would he bow
An unbound, forlorn soul was he
No ring to lover, wife, or wench would he ever endow

But now let us mind ye, there be a difference ‘tween the two
Courage and righteousness
And fool would ye be to misconstrue

For Strunferth had plenty o’ the first
And splendorous hoards of what he thought the second
And upon this night o’ which I speak he had ‘nother manner o’ thirst

For the ale ye see, but he had not the gold
But gods grace, there be a priest o’ the sun
Desperate was his plea, to he would service be sold

The fool was pitiful, stupid, weak
As the venerable humans tend to be
Bemoaning his loss, wailing o’ matters bleak

“Woe is me! ”, priest spake
“The dragon’s taken one o’ mine children,
took her to its cavern dwelling ‘cross the lake.”

A sensible man, Strunferth cared not
But the priest proffered gold, and serpents had sybaritic wealth untold
And so Strunferth said, “I shall aid ye and yer lot.”

And thus the two traveled
To the monster’s cavernous lair
Where did the dragon around an insurmountable mound of treasure lie enraveled

“Ye’re too late, ye old fool! ” The dragon did bellow
As it arose with magnificance indomitable
“Yer daughter’s dead, ye’re one unfortunate fellow! ”

The beast inhaled, ancient fires did it exhume
Drew deeply o’ wells o’ power unchecked
And released its conflagrating, fiery plume

Pragmatic and just,
Strunferth did as any honorable warrior must
Pushed the priest in the way did he, watched him burn to dust

“That was the last to know o’ yer lair, mighty dragon! ” Strunferth did exclaim
And the dragon stilled its breath for but a moment as Strunferth spoke on,
“But not last ‘o kin, and I can make the others yours to claim! ”

The dragon eyed him, “Oh, but he was not the last to know, ”
And the serpent edged closer, the cavern trembling in all its subtlety
“But go on, tell me what makes ye not just another foe.”

Thus Strunferth did explain, recounted his lack o’ ale
Told the dragon o’ the priest’s other children
Informed the creature that in his retrieval o' those kin he would not fail

And so he did not, and each child was soon gluttonously devoured to the last
The dragon told Strunferth that he had yet to taste any morsel so delectable
Commended him, told him his prior trespassing was a matter o’ the past

Compensated Strunferth for his proper selection of sides
Offered more than enough gold
Enough to buy a pint o’ ale and many a wench besides

Tis’ the end and the truth and ye ask how Skogen knows, ye boy?
Hearken, Skogen knows, ye fool o’ trolls
Aye, aye, Skogen always knows; Skogen disguises no ploy

Now listen ye and ye take fast to bed
Question no more
Lest to a mighty serpent Skogen will have ye fed