A tale of heroic deeds. |
This is the saga of Willam Bonbagga and Wolfrin his powerful mage. Up hill and down; through village and town they'd followed the Black Dragon's rage. In air so befouled they'd heard the beast howl; the sun lost behind his thick smoke. Slogging through mud, congealed with red blood, Wolfrin at last his mind spoke. "Yon village aflame; he's good at his game, we'd best rally men to our side. For little we know how this battle will go and a failure we cannot abide." So down the steep slope with allies as their hope, they rode through the gloom to the town. Their homes all afire; the townsmen's desire was to hunt the Black Dragon down. Bonbagga then spoke as he pushed back his cloak to reveal he was a Knight Templar. "I'll deal him a blow that will make the beast know that he has met an exemplar." So, mounting his horse, he set off on his course, with Wolfrin the Mage on his right. While there on his left, of weapons bereft, the townsmen stayed home from the fight. The lair of The Beast was a cave in the east in which a cathedral could stand. Yet, at it's dark mouth, these men from the south, had faith in their powers at hand. From inside the cave came a howl from the grave; a rumbling, earth shaking roar. That withered the trees and dirtied the breeze; hinting at bloodshed and gore. Bonbagga's sword flashed as inside he dashed, with the Dragon at last face to face. With his aim at Its breast, he put sword to the test and instantly wished for his mace. The Beast picked him up as you would a young pup and swung him all this way and that. While down on the floor just inside the cave door Wolfrin in trancelike stage sat. With a loud whining hum Wofrin had begun to cast a strong spell of binding. It wove in and out, and all round about, the Dragon with its sweet notes blinding. "Let loose from thy mouth that man from the south I cast thee to hell by the words of this spell. let light spread it's face on this terrible place! " Then, out of the sky, the sun it did spy and hissing with hatred and spite and writhing in pain, the Black Dragon was slain. The heroes had won the fight. Now from far and near, those names you will hear as the people all tell the old saga. Of the bravest of men who fought way back then, Wolfrin and Wilam Bonbagga. 436 words |