The Heralds of Sylmoraine I
A fateful journey. For our king Utamara. Ironsworn play report.
Important note:
The intended verse meter for reading is the
Trochaic Tetrameter (four feet per line, each with a stressed-unstressed pattern):
Aeliryn Dúndor, sworn to the King,
His life to the crown, the duty it brings.
and NOT the Iambic Tetrameter: unstressed-stressed, you will hear the difference.
Once it sounds too happy it’s Iambic, just change back to Trochaic.
Swearing our Background Vows:
To the dying king Utamara of Sylmoraine
To the merciful goddess, Arakhi
Aeliryn Dúndor, sworn to the King,
His life to the crown, the duty it brings.
Rúndoril Elenath, with blade in hand,
To fight for the realm, to make his last stand.
Thalionir Galadorn, his heart is true,
For Utamara’s will, he’ll see it through.
“I vow to serve, to stand with my kin,
Until the last breath, until it begins.”
Eledrin Anariel, bound by the stars,
To the King and his fate, with no further scars.
“By blood and by soul, by the stars in the sky,
I swear to the King, till the last I will die.”
The Fellowship: Three Soldiers and Cleric Eledrin.
Our Duty for Sylmoraine.
Eledrin walks through the halls of despair,
Shadows grow tall in the cold, eerie air.
The letter in hand, his face a mere stare,
He speaks of a kingdom fading, no heir.
“Summon them forth,” he commands in the gloom,
For fate has been sealed in this cold, darkened room.
Thalionir stands, his blade held so tight,
Aeliryn follows, his heart untouched by fright.
Rundoril the last, strengthened from pain.
They will march to the end, where no hope shall remain.
None dare to speak, for the silence is deep,
And all of their souls are forever asleep.
“Go forth where the lost ones in darkness reside,
Where wraiths roam and death is the only guide.”
“Utamara’s reign has now ended in vain,
His last breath has faltered, his soul bound in pain.”
The gods do not answer, their mercy has fled,
The path is unholy, the road full of dread.
So take up thy sword, for the end is now near.
Preparing our Journey to Vaelmyrith.
They rest and prepare for the march ahead,
To face what is bound in the threads of dread.
The journey leads to Vaelmyrith's gate,
Where oracles dwell, and destiny waits.
In Vaelmyrith’s halls, a king must arise,
If Utamara's soul falls, the kingdom dies.
Without a new ruler, the lands will divide,
A chasm of chaos, where hopelessness will stride.
Ambushed on our Way.
A band of brigands surrounds our way,
They drag us to camp, where shadows will sway.
Eledrin, bearer of the sealed decree,
Is taken aside, bound where none can see.
We hear his scream, sharp and full of pain,
As torment runs wild through the bloodstained rain.
The priest they torment, while we stand in chains,
Our weapons are lost, yet none break the strains.
At night, Aeliryn slips, trying to break free,
His cuffs are undone, but the guards soon see.
He rushes to help, to set Thalionir loose,
But blades are drawn quick, and his fate’s now profuse.
They bind him once more, with fists full of rage,
The rogue beaten down, his spirits to fade.
Then through the dark, a flash splits the sky,
Screams fill the air, as guards flee nearby.
Eledrin glows, as a flame in the night,
He’s risen, a god, or fallen in light.
No weapon can harm him, nor blade pierce his form,
He walks as a tempest, a furious storm.
The soldiers, in awe, have never before,
Seen power so fierce, so bright, and so pure.
He comes to our aid, unties our strong binds,
And with rising wrath, the enemy blinds.
The camp flees in terror, as disbelief reigns,
We take back our weapons and prepare for the pains.
The elves cut down foes, with arrows and knives,
Through bodies and eyes, ending confinement and lifes.
Thalionir, grim, with a savage delight,
Cuts scalps for trophies, his heart filled with might.
Valarie, the Seer.
The party departs from the place of the slain,
With silence behind them and memories of pain.
Valarie waits with a knowing stare,
A mystic whose visions drift through the air.
"I knew you were coming," her voice like the wind,
"The king fades to dust, his reign at an end."
"Thalionir, Aeliryn, Rúndoril stand,
Eledrin, chosen by fate’s heavy hand.
The kingdom shall rise or crumble to sand,
Its life or its death now rests in your hand.
Beware of the stakes, let your hearts not betray,
The elves place their hope in the path you must stay.
May gods guide your steps through darkness and fire,
Through Eledrin’s light, their will shall inspire.
Now go forth in haste, for time runs so thin,
The shadows grow bold, the void creeping in."
"You may find triumph, or fall to the blade,
The seers are blind, their visions now fade.
Let not the darkness consume all we know,
Deliver the message and make our hearts glow."
Eledrin weeps, his faith burning bright,
But the soldiers stand firm, prepared for the fight.
Order is order; death may yet call,
But duty must stand when kingdoms may fall.
The Cascades of Kerishu. The Welks.
Through the trees, they press ahead,
Onward bound where fate has led.
Waterfalls in mist arise,
Kerihu’s cascade complies.
Eledrin, in prayer bent,
Bids the streams in grace relent.
They spot the animals, two Welks in stride,
Half wolf, half elk, in darkness they bide.
Their fur the whitest snow, so cold, so bright,
Their souls consumed by shadows, void of light.
They search for prey, but so do soldiers three,
Rúndoril with his bow, eyes sharp as sea.
Aeliryn wields his daggers, poised to fight,
Thalionir’s blade gleams in the dying light.
Aeliryn to treetops climbs,
Rúndoril lets arrows fly.
Daggers flash in silent flight,
Throats are cut in cold moonlight.
Massive beasts like hares collapse,
Never knowing death’s swift grasp.
Thalionir, with practiced hand,
Claims their teeth and antlers grand.
Feast they take and rest they find,
Yet the welks of loss remind.
Howls now pierce the shadowed trees,
Brothers lost—where can they be?
As they eat, the pack draws near,
War erupts with tooth and spear.
Blood is spilled and welks fall slain,
Yet their fangs still mark their claim.
From the fray, their priest is torn,
Dragged through darkened woods forlorn.
Thalionir now scans the ground,
Aeliryn, his footing sound.
Rúndoril kneels close in sight,
Finds the tracks in silvered light.
Swift they run, their hearts in dread,
Through the dark where echoes bled.
Eledrin stands in searing glow,
Golden flames like heaven’s woe.
Welks now cower, howl, and wail,
Gods descend and time grows frail.
"You should not have come," he speaks,
Thalionir’s resolve now weak.
"Duty calls you, not my life,
Go, before the gods decide."
Yet from shadow, arrows fly,
One by one, the welks now die.
The Guards of Vidarna
Onward march, the road is bare,
Silent winds and hollow air.
Through the dust and through land,
Vidarna’s guards like statues stand.
Their leader Ilsit waits with eyes keen,
Cloaked in shadow, fierce, unseen.
Ever grasping for the crown,
Yet never casting Utamara down.
tbc.
Disclaimer:
I used my Ironsworn campaign journal for the ideas and
ChatGPT and Crayon for the generation of the content itsself.
With some corrections and changes made by me.
All pictures generated by Lukas Gartmair with crayon.com Image Generator.
All verses generated by Lukas Gartmair with OpenAI ChatGPT.
Copyright © 2025 Lukas Gartmair. All rights reserved.