Minstrel Tales - Shield Lander's Lament

This is mournful song about the many Shield Landers who have fallen fighting against the forces of the Horned Society.

Shield Lander's Lament

I’m just an old loyal Shield Lander

I’m fighten' through this world of woe.

There is no sickness, toil, nor danger,

That will keep me from my mortal foe.

I’m going home to see my father,

I’m going home no more to roam;

It's just across that Ritensa River,

I'm gonna cross to get to home.

I see dark clouds have gathered o’er me,

I see my pathway’s rough and steep;

But no Horned Fiend is gonna stop me,

My weary eyes no more shall weep.

I’m going there to see my mother,

She said she’d meet me when I come;

It's just across the Ritensa River,

I'm gonna cross to get to home.

I'm gonna tell the Shield Lands story,

Together with my blood-soaked band;

I'm gonna wear that shield of glory ,

When I get home to that good land.

I’m going there to see my brothers,

They passed before me one by one;

It's just across that Ritensa River,

I'm gonna cross to get to home.

I’ll soon be free from every trial,

This form will rest beneath the sod;

I've fought every step and every mile

Now the path of death my feet do trod.

I’m going home to see my sisters,

Who shed for me their precious blood;

It's just across that Ritensa River,

I'm gonna cross to get to home.

(Altered from the song 'Wayfaring Stranger')

Minstrel Tales - Give Me Three Brave Swords Shielding

Minstrel Tales Give Me Three Brave Swords Shielding

Give Me Three Brave Swords Shielding

The minstrels and bards from the Shield Lands sing this song when raising support for their struggle against the Iuz and the Horned Society. It has become quite popular among soldiers, in their camps and the taverns they frequent.

Give Me Three Brave Swords, Shielding

Give me three brave swords, Shielding,
Only three brave swords;
They will keep the little I have
Free from Iuz's horde.

I am dying beneath Iuz's heel, Shielding,
Dying beneath Iuz's heel;
And the agony of such a death
No balm may ever heal.

Iuz has gnawed me like a wolf, Shielding,
A wolf that is fierce for blood;
All the day, and the night beside,
Lapping at my blood.

I dreamed of freedom in my sleep, Shielding,
And the sight was welcome to see;
I awoke with an eager, beating heart,
But there was no freedom for me.

How can I look to you, Shielding,
How can I look to you
For swords to give to your ravaged land,
When you are swordless too.

For I read the defeat in your graven face, Shielding,
And in your eyes so wild,
And I felt it in your shaking hand,
And in your heart so mild.

What have the Shield Lands done, Shielding,
What have the Shield Lands done
That the Oerth looks on and sees us die,
Perishing one by one?

Do the nations of the Flanaess care not, Shielding,
The great ones and the high,
For the suffering of the Shield Land's sons,
Whether they live or die?

There are many still with a brave heart, Shielding,
Dying of want and cold,
While many escaped to safer lands,
Still strong and rich in gold.

Come nearer to my side, Shielding,
Come nearer to my side,
And remember me as I was,
Your homeland before I die.

Quick, for I cannot see you, Shielding,
The seeds of death are sown;
Shielding! dear Shielding! ere I die,
Three swords for your home.

Loosely adapted from 'Give Me Three Grains of Corn, Mother' By Amelia Blandford Edwards

Minstrel Tales - Fighting South of the Fellrev

Here is a poem about the Shield Landers and their fight against Iuz and the Horned Society.

Minstrel Tales - Fighting South of the Fellrev

Last Year we were fighting at the source of the Rittensa;
This year we are fighting on the road to Critwall.
We have washed our swords in the Nyr Dyv's blooded surf;
We have pastured our horses among the snows of the Barrens,


Holmer's armies have grown grey and old
Fighting so near but never home.
The Horned Ones have no trade but battle and carnage;
They have no fields or ploughlands,


But only wastes where white bones lie among yellow sands.
Where we Shieldlanders built a wall of swords to keep them away,
There, in his turn, Iuz lit beacons of war.
The beacons are always alight, fighting and marching never stop.


Men die in the field, slashing sword to sword;The horses of the conquered 
Neigh piteously to Ehlonna.
Crows and hawks peck for human guts,
Carry them in their beaks and hang them on branches of withered trees.


Captains and soldiers are smeared on the bushes and grass;
But the Horned Ones schemed in vain.
Know therefore that the sword is a powerful thing
Which the wise man uses freely when he must.

(Altered from Li Po "Fighting South of the Rampart" 

Minstrel Tales - Hextor's Song

A poem for the god Hextor originating, surprisingly, from a bard in the Shield Lands where a cult of Hextor honoring War has taken a foothold among the doughty warriors of that realm.


Hextor's Song

I sing the praise of honored wars,
The glory of well-gotten scars,
The bravery of glittering shields,
Of lusty hearts and famous fields;
For that is the music worthy of Hextor's ear,
A sight for kings, praise for the god to hear.

Great battles I do see
The grace of chivalry;
The colors are displayed,
The knighthood bright arrayed.
See now the battle's changed,
Arrows now thick are ranged.

Hark! Blood and wounds abound,
The drums alarum sound.
The captains cry
The trumpets sound.
Oh, this is the music worthy of Hextor's ear,
A sight for kings, praise for the god to hear.

(Altered from "The Soldier's Song")

Organization - The Cult of Steel

Organization - The Cult of Steel

579cy The Shield Lands are hard pressed. The Horned Society pushing from the north and west, the Bandit Kingdoms with mysterious support pushing from north and east. The Nyr Dyv filled with pirates and raiders. From the turmoil something new has arisen.

In the Shield Lands the faith of good men and women has been tested and the strength of the gods has been found wanting. A belief in the power of armor to protect and a keen edge to avenge is growing, has taken hold and the new faith is in the Cult of Steel.

Warriors and Blacksmiths, Dwarves and Humans, the power of Steel has enchanted more men than metal, but all cultists, from the lowliest new recruit or apprentice to the master-smith and high priest bears some graven blade or piece of armor blessed and dweomencrafted with some enchantment.

Steel Cultist keep their beliefs secret and their membership hidden, even among themselves. In their hidden forge-shrines they are cowled and often helmed or masked only showing their marks of rank to each other. In the outer world the serve as soldiers, blacksmiths, thieves, adventurers, mercenaries but can reveal themselves to other Culist through the emblem of hammer and blade.

Cultist seek weapons, armor and items of enchantment. These are brought to the Priest/Smiths who will reform them into enchanted weapons and armor specifically crafted for the indvidual cultist. A cultist grows in rank through achievements as well aquisitions. The higher the rank the more powerful the armor and weapons and the greater feats of daring and hard won victories required. Cultist armor and weapons are kept hidden from non-cultists and only worn on missions and quests or within-the forge shrines.

As the cult grows some members choose to renounce their former lives and dedicate themselves entirely to the cult. They will then mask or hide their features permenantly and openly wear their armor among the uninitiated in the wider world. In the Shield Lands such cultist are no long a rarity and the cult is spreading outward across the Flanaess.

NOTE: Inspired by the Mandalorian ep 3.