Ulfric
In time long lost not in lore recorded
Ulfric, unforgiving of wrongs oft unsheathed his sword
To right wrongs past. He remembered them all.
Long his wrath was known both wide and far.
At long last he ceased, and his long ships beached,
his sword he sheathed in peace. His spear put away.
He meant to make peace, and more to stay
at hearth and home in rest no helm to don again.
His war raiding behind no remaining bitterness
Did he hold, nor dream that harm from others
Should to him travel through toilsome seas.
Yet wrong he reckoned strength of ruinous hate
the wild wraiths, his rage had wrought him.
A high hall Ulfric soon had built
So to honor honest warriors, those who mightily
had fought for him, and friends also
in fields from home.
Red gold he gave them, A generous king he was.
Yet his generous gold swiftly given away,
was taken and torn away from tender hands
In distant wars long won. Now withered cold
he deemed those deadened hands. Wrong he deemed them.
None who came in kindness whether kin or
Stranger, worn and weary, Ulric would turn away
Far and wide his winsome manner swiftly was spread
Many heard and harkened to hear that name
To know, near enough, where nested their gold
The gold now given was great in records
both great and grim its ghastly trail
was cut and carved all across the North
from hand to hand it had harmfully passed
with boiling blood swiftly and brashly shed
it was horded and harrowed by hateful men,
till Ulfric unmade its owner and unlooked for
brought it, healthy homeward. And handed it
into the keeping and cups of kings and beggars
who came and cared to stay in that kingly hall.
The words of wise bards never was missed
in that great thralldom, as they nobly
told their tales and showed their talents.
His wife he winsomely bedecked in white diamonds
and green gold bracelets and gilded rings.
His sons were sung of in ships and lands
far off for their strength and fine mettle.
He taught them tender peace and in terrible war
he showed them strength. Even so kings
must rule their realms.
One late night, long ago as laughter filled
the mighty hall more than ever, and mirth was overflowing
A runner sought Ulric's ear to render a message
from shore.
Ulric was weak and old, soon weary of life.
He sought to spend his final days in the sun's warmth.
He forgot his fated end.
Warriors with torches swiftly wound their way
toward the teeming hall, greed tore their minds
and forced them forward with fire and steel
to take the gold and torch the hall.
Little time he had, Ulric had not lost
courage or cunning, and carefully directed
where the women should leave, with children and young
Yet his wife would not go, and waited with Ulric
for the fire and blood to fill the golden hall.
The raiders arrived with ravings of hate.
They rushed the iron door, how wrong they were.
They were cut and wasted, by willing blades,
None could match Colwch, Ulric's coldest son.
Of peace he learned the least, now lithe and quick
He swung his sword as death's scythe.
None came through his door.
Ulric's oldest son, Olmar was almost as strong,
but more keen and cunning, his claim was a bow,
he skewered them striving up, to scale the stairs.
None came through that door.
The last, so lore recounts, was soon lost.
By Dallion, who deemed war and deadly things
as hateful and worthless horrors, so he despised them,
And would learn little of war, but luxury he knew well.
A blade cut of his head and carried it away.
In his stead Ulric came, old and stately he stood.
His mighty sword mangled foes again,
his most lovely wife, with spear and sheild
stood at his side. .
In fury the flames were thrown, and fast burned
into the hall, heavy smoke sifted and hung
in the hall, the home of great Housecarls.
The raiders retreated, let the fire wreak its havoc.
Those in the hall took stock,
and deemed it best to dash out
and attempt to flee lest all should die.
Cutting, cleaving from the door was Colwch's blade,
Olmar the oldest was behind, hard on his heels.
They led, none lagged behind with little courage.
The raiders fell and ran before that rush.
Blood and bravery always broke the foe.
But only barely, for Colwch badly
Was wounded to death. They waited
on a high hill, trying to help Colwch,
but cruel steel cut away Colwch's life.
On that hill were they by thanes surrounded.
About brother's body they stood and baited the foe.
Thrice the greed driven thanes surged
up to Ulric's blade and Ulric smote
them down as in days of old but death
would not wait, biding with patience
the time to claim tender lives.
Ulric fell, his final strength forever gone,
Cut and hewn again, his adversaries
dearly paid to deprive him of dearest breath.
Upon Ulric's body died Ulric's wife.
As they lived and loved so were they lost.
All about the aged body his able men defended
Yet one by one they fell wasted and dead.
And dearly were they deprived of dearest life.
Yet the wall was weakened and warriors slain
So long at last was Olwen left
Standing strong and alone sword in hand
brother and father both were sheltered beneath his shield
the raiders withdrew to regroup the wreckage of their force,
none could match the might of Ulric's men.
Once more they marshaled and mustered the few
death had not harvested and harrowed swiftly
the son of strong Ulric. Screaming they rushed
up the hill now heaped with Housecarls
and thickly with thanes and raiders thronged in death
Olwen's bow sang sweet and clear, dealing swift death.
As they clambered over the dead, closing the distance.
Done now, his bow was broken, he beat them back,
Swiftly drew sword and dagger. His shield was broken.
With wounds beset and by warriors defeated,
defeated and doomed, to death he fell,
beside his brother.
