Okay, as many know, Erion's dieing pretty soon here. And, as my first (and probably last) bardic submission, I'm submitting an extensive piece. This is only a small portion (approximately 1/3 of it, maybe less). However, I'm uncertain as to whether or not I like it, so. I want opinions on it, where the flow is broken too often/liberally, suggestions, etc.

"So comes the day old Faeslayer, your life is at an end.
How long did you believe, we would discuss your twisted thread?
Once again you come to see us, and hope the rules we will still bend.
For this day you drink the draught, and to the Basin you are dead."

"Your weave is at an end, a tale of ancient plight;
Born rich and spoiled, no wonder your fate is now,
You once served Elohora, a figure of golden light.
I see the halo still, crowning your twisted brow."

"Promises of redemption, often they were made,
Yet scorned for fear and knowledge, you could only turn away.
Brothers you once had, no longer are they now,
A kingly prince one is, carrying on the ancient vow."

"Another brother though, I see his thread here still,
Tied to yours in shadow, you cared only for the thrill.
Life and death meant nothing, too often it was said -
Faeslayer's younger brother, was never right within the head."

"Your mother died when you were young, the blame you did misplace;
Father, Brother, Uncle, Niece - you never sought the truth,
For all could see what was in front of you, it would never take a sleuth -
All there was was a broken heart, and so her soul displaced."

"A true loyalist you were, faithful to the Light,
You fought hard and died, and for that we gave brief respite.
Your thread was left untouched, and you continued on your way,
We Fates are oft too kind, for those whom wished to stay."

"Then one day it happened, for every man must fall,
Meleris approached Vesar, and gave dark portend,
And with word of this you hurried, down a shimmering golden hall,
There you spoke with the Holy Lady, and she wished a Demon Lord dead."

"The Merciful Judge did give you task, and said what must be done.
Yet words are nothing but shadows of truth, and your corruption had now begun.
You took the words for value, nothing beyond the face,
And when pressed into action, His hunger you could not sate."

"For when you try to smother flame, with naught but dry twigs and wood,
Smoke will fill the air and seas, leaving you to do only as one could.
Yet you never feared embrace, at least of Godly love,
For when the Mysterial Lord was turned away, you followed as a dog."

"Your tale is long and I tire, yet this I must see done.
You wandered here, you wandered there,
You went on without friend or care, yet when your god had gone,
You stayed within the Crystal Sea, and you too became Despair."

"Years had passed, and threads did entwine,
One whom you did love, and another do you still,
They were bound to you, and bound against their will,
Deep within the ancient Crypt, you spoke of how you dine."

"Tales of Fae and Merian, your own blood as a draught,
You ate and drink to heart's content, in hopes you'ld one day stop.
The Taint had drove you mad, you can see it as you ought,
Yet still you bare no remorse, and malice in your heart."

"Within the city of the Taint, you found your new play;
The Hunger bore on within you, and without it you'ld be done,
You sought to sate it still, and consumed unliving Fae.
Yet this was not to be, curtains closed, and you did run."

"Loyal now you were, to one whom would never love,
With skin as cold as ice, and hair as dark as Night,
You'ld fallen for the witch, Glomdoring's cold, hard bitch,
As though an arrow striking true, your thread we heard thrum."

"And so We were still not done, and you thread intertwined again,
This time with a Goddess, one of only childish intent.
As your Queen seemed wanting to die, you pushed and still survived,
And against the touch of reCreation, you found words alone could strive."

"Viravain marched onwards, and an old box was refound,
And all whom touched it won, then died, their fate became unbound.
Yet knowing this alone would help, you freed an ancient curse,
And soon all began to happen, faster, instead reverse."

"Succcess you thought you'ld had, when the Almighty had broken free,
Pain and torment was your reward, and soon, I will grant you peace.
The Glomdoring did rise, as a chest with unabated breath,
And just a quickly it did fall, only to repeat."

"Your fate is woven here and now, clear for all to see,
Your triumphant fall from Light and Grace, into Night's unholy, dark Embrace.
Strive your life you truely have, to right the ancient wrongs,
But you are not an Elder God, Meridian or Trillillial."

"So still your death has come, even though you sought to prove life wrong,
For I will see all things in time, their threads are mine to snip.
Once I took thread in hand, and pulled it far apart,
And so you were given life, but now you must return to ancient pieces part."

And as he watched in fear,
Atropos took her scissors,
To his thread She did draw near.
For the briefest of moments,
As blade to thread was brought,
He saw the cold, white draught.

He thought of those he'd wronged,
Of things he'd fixed and bought,
Of people he'd hoped to kill,
Of places he'll soon have forgot.
Memories of Ialie,
Her voice rang crystal still.

"I love you," he'd remembered,
She'd whispered in his ear,
Taunting him in the shadows,
She'd ask to be drawn near.
Yet cold her touch would be,
For Fates he knew were cruel.

Another crystal voice,
And a golden glowing smile,
Lyren stood beside a merian,
A man of ancient times.
Both he and she had prayed,
Erion's salvation would be saved.

Staring cold and hard,
Glowing eyes of red,
A teddy-bear he'd remembered,
He'd hoped it would be dead.
Stabbington had mocked,
"Erion is an ugly, ugly f-".

A hand clamped over quickly,
A twisted angry mouth,
Bricriu would smile,
A strong woman she had been,
And, so the Faeslayer knew,
She would always be.

Silver light surrounded him,
He felt true presence of Moon,
And before him stood his slayer.
She lifted her hand again,
As though just as before,
Silver light poured out.

Shadows coalasced,
And Erion knew time drew near,
Rowena stood before him,
Her cold mocking stare.
But only if for an instant,
He'd forget she was even there.

Suddenly he grimaced,
As though between two sheers,
Atropos strained a moment,
He knew his time was here.
Suddenly the light was gone,
Shadows changed as well.

Light and dark did mix,
And gray fog did cloak the ground,
And for a moment, Erion would swear,
On his very life, Lacostian did see him,
In his final point of strife.

Yet only for an instant,
Then the mist would fade,
The draught took him again,
And life would drain away.
He heard the painful snip,
which shook him to his core.

Good. Very good. Where's the bit where I up with your corpse?

I hope you get a glorious helm, the symbol of your rebirth,
only to be stolen, depriving you of mirth.

+1 for Nayl!

Anyway. <3 to you too, Nayl. (Or, at least, so I think. Still attempting to figure out what you meant...)

How I gave you your coif, tard.
That's 3 times you've forgotten.
In like, 2 days.

I had a coif?

Egads, arg-pee? Nerf Erion!

I like it so far. Where's the part where you go through the people, and see me wanting to bash your head in?

I'm missing a few, I'm going to add in a few surprises before I submit it.

EDIT: That is, I'm leaving them out because I'm contemplating if I WANT them in there, what I want, and some it's just a case of not-getting-a-big-head.

I did mean well with that corpse thing, I should say...

A +1 cookie to whomever can tell me what this stanza is referring to.

No idea.

I'm tempted to write him a stanza at the end, with other memorable people. But he was such an isignificant part, really.

Viravain breaking the seal! Or Jasper being put in a box... but that was Lisaera.

EDIT: Ignore this!

Actually, yea, woo, go Jasper. It was that morning, when it became clear Viravain wouldn't be able to try to cleanse the Ravenwood unless the glade was forested. So Erion asked Magnagora to back down. Said as soon as the tree was reformed, we could try and jump in.

...And then everything went shot to hell.

Where is my damn cookie!?

+1

I really, really, really like your rhyme scheme. Its superb. And I like how you use your metaphors to create an atmosphere that is both eerie and fantastical at the same time. That's not an easy thing to do. I give you, out of 10 points, 10!!! *holds up the sign* Write on. I want more!!!

Thanks!! I kind of tried to keep a rhyme scheme, but as can be seen, it kind of shifts stanza to stanza. Plain old rhyme schemes bored me. If you throw me an IM (It's on my thingie), when I get home (about an hour, hour and a half), I'll let you see the first part. The second part has yet to be written, as it's yet to take place, and we're going to partially wing it (within set parameters), and I'll write the part for it after I clean up the log.

I want an entire copy.

...and Erion's skin, so I can prance around in it through Celest.