Lest We Forget

In the Vashnar range, a valley so peaceful and serene, what a wonderful place to be. Your beautiful people and iconic towers, warm summer days and cold winter showers What does it mean to be Cyrene?

The sultry beat and friendly greets, the pitter patter of children's feet. The smell of fresh bread, the memories of our fallen dead. Hurtful words better left unsaid. You deserve the best, Cyrene, will we meet your test?

From the struggles without, wars unending to the clearing of the forest its beasts forbidding. We rose to the challenge beset before us, we strived for greatness and forged ahead To tame the wilds and built our homesteads.

Guarding against what the world would take, our home we shall never forsake. Freedom to live how we choose without Wayward imposition held on high, Nay I dare say Our defeat is not bequeathed so lightly, for Cyrene is still proud and mighty.

We thrive in all things Cyrene; we rise, and we survive. With our knowledge and our wonders. Our explorations and our fighters. We stand tall among the Mountains, on warm summer days and through cold winter showers amongst our towers and Pillars of Silver and Steel. This is how it feels.

Within our valley, our claim to fame. We battled the demons and made our way. Braving the storms, a winters gale we drink and sing song with Iron Beards Ale. Pushing back the ebbs and tides we roll on So pretty and serene, what does it mean to be Cyrene?

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Ero, in the year 895 AF.