Achaean News
I Too Lost My Lunch
Written by: Kog Terias
Date: Sunday, August 25th, 2024
Addressed to: Aspirant Blonk
I'm frankly shocked your chicken's dark,
but not that you used it to litter the creek-
how did you even strike a spark,
with vernacular flint so unfocused and weak?
Be glad you have a sage on hand.
You slip on my rime and can't keep to the thyme.
Your Lurching phrase I cannot stand,
Your poetic flow an unfortunate crime.
-- --
I see that Lurch was working hard and likely up all night,
counting ev'ry syllable yet never counting right.
Reminds me of his Senate term, if I must be polite.
Aspirant, I welcome you. I don't believe we've met.
There's not much to your poems but a hazy silhouette.
I reckon like the Reckoning: an essay to forget.
I must concede where it is due; you all know how to fight.
Stick to using swords not words: a chicken's chance at flyte.
Yet even those who stay their sword can tell a wrong from right.
To battle Ashtan's greater might, the 'teth you'd gladly pay.
Or war with Mhaldor lost despite Eleusian parlay?
But we gave nothing up, nor down, we killed you anyway.
Though we could bond from Wayward antics and her mocking laugh,
I led us into land She stole and faced Chaos' bloodbath.
Strange you raided -us- in the Enlightened aftermath?
I seem to be a bit confused, do you defend Creation?
You only march to steal our land, much to Jaru's deflation-
Set adrift by Ashtan, now demoted to waystation.
Was marching on to empire given by your holy mission?
Or did you cast aside that veil in barely-clothed ambition?
Write another doctrine as your current needs revision.
A Chosen helped you shackle dwarves. That won't go over badly...
I saw you take New Hope, did you find Evil in that abbey?
Now Shastaan and Riparium? I think you're being grabby.
It seemed to you an easy path, new land you could acquire
Instead you tripped upon your feet, head-first into crossfire
Tragedy to lose yourself while reaching for empire
We want a world where decent folk live free while standing tall.
I'll focus on that goal while you keep playing with your ball-
Shastaan cries aloud for aid. I won't ignore their call.
Some flock to help, but don't assume these birds are of a feather.
Don't strain yourself too much to try to tie us all together-
It's not the sort of concord that endures past stormy weather.
If Ashtan is the threat you say, this leads me to enquire
of why you're spending so much time on visiting our Spire?
Did you get lost when marching north or come just to admire?
Recently, I must admit, I have begun to wonder-
Was the act of fighting us a diplomatic blunder?
Or meant to hide the lack of flash behind all of your thunder?
Ashtan beat you in Jaru and Mhaldor got your shrine.
You once again concoct a plan to show to your divine
that all is well and overlook all signs of your decline.
-- --
Throughout the world our ways our known.
If this paperwork written in triplicate cuts
or you ignore the insults thrown,
I hope every village pulls out of your ruts.
-- --
That's all of the time I'll spare for you now, consider class dismissed-
One final lesson before I depart: at least Shallam was missed.
Penned by my hand on the 21st of Lupar, in the year 954 AF.
I Too Lost My Lunch
Written by: Kog Terias
Date: Sunday, August 25th, 2024
Addressed to: Aspirant Blonk
I'm frankly shocked your chicken's dark,
but not that you used it to litter the creek-
how did you even strike a spark,
with vernacular flint so unfocused and weak?
Be glad you have a sage on hand.
You slip on my rime and can't keep to the thyme.
Your Lurching phrase I cannot stand,
Your poetic flow an unfortunate crime.
-- --
I see that Lurch was working hard and likely up all night,
counting ev'ry syllable yet never counting right.
Reminds me of his Senate term, if I must be polite.
Aspirant, I welcome you. I don't believe we've met.
There's not much to your poems but a hazy silhouette.
I reckon like the Reckoning: an essay to forget.
I must concede where it is due; you all know how to fight.
Stick to using swords not words: a chicken's chance at flyte.
Yet even those who stay their sword can tell a wrong from right.
To battle Ashtan's greater might, the 'teth you'd gladly pay.
Or war with Mhaldor lost despite Eleusian parlay?
But we gave nothing up, nor down, we killed you anyway.
Though we could bond from Wayward antics and her mocking laugh,
I led us into land She stole and faced Chaos' bloodbath.
Strange you raided -us- in the Enlightened aftermath?
I seem to be a bit confused, do you defend Creation?
You only march to steal our land, much to Jaru's deflation-
Set adrift by Ashtan, now demoted to waystation.
Was marching on to empire given by your holy mission?
Or did you cast aside that veil in barely-clothed ambition?
Write another doctrine as your current needs revision.
A Chosen helped you shackle dwarves. That won't go over badly...
I saw you take New Hope, did you find Evil in that abbey?
Now Shastaan and Riparium? I think you're being grabby.
It seemed to you an easy path, new land you could acquire
Instead you tripped upon your feet, head-first into crossfire
Tragedy to lose yourself while reaching for empire
We want a world where decent folk live free while standing tall.
I'll focus on that goal while you keep playing with your ball-
Shastaan cries aloud for aid. I won't ignore their call.
Some flock to help, but don't assume these birds are of a feather.
Don't strain yourself too much to try to tie us all together-
It's not the sort of concord that endures past stormy weather.
If Ashtan is the threat you say, this leads me to enquire
of why you're spending so much time on visiting our Spire?
Did you get lost when marching north or come just to admire?
Recently, I must admit, I have begun to wonder-
Was the act of fighting us a diplomatic blunder?
Or meant to hide the lack of flash behind all of your thunder?
Ashtan beat you in Jaru and Mhaldor got your shrine.
You once again concoct a plan to show to your divine
that all is well and overlook all signs of your decline.
-- --
Throughout the world our ways our known.
If this paperwork written in triplicate cuts
or you ignore the insults thrown,
I hope every village pulls out of your ruts.
-- --
That's all of the time I'll spare for you now, consider class dismissed-
One final lesson before I depart: at least Shallam was missed.
Penned by my hand on the 21st of Lupar, in the year 954 AF.