Slest’sla
Of the Slaying of the Beast
Listen now to the tale of the Foothills –
So that you will know of the Sal’uch’s strength
And how, through battles long sung,
We fought and died against the Beast,
‘Ere it was felled by Zephyrak the Shellcrusher
Upon the islands of its folly.
Through calm waters did the Beast rise -
Wine-dark waves that drowned the coast,
And from those did come waves of dead,
Soon known as jellies,
Who tormented those in retreat,
And plagued the city of Fogburrow thereafter.
Year on year passed without reprieve
For the bastions of our people,
Until with great risk was Snowrend reclaimed
In the twilight of the Beast’s terror.
For with the cold forges now warmed,
So too was the hope of peace.
From Snowrend came weapons,
From Crushfeather came food,
From all corners came warriors,
With strength of arms and mind, to Fogburrow,
Where the jellies were driven by the Beast
And from whence they would be removed.
So began the long campaign to free
The Foothills from the Beast of the Deep.
Ballistas fired bolts three-bodies long that flew
Alongside magic spawned by the new age -
In all ways did our people fight forward,
Until, wounded, did the terror seek safety in the water.
The Beast fled from the might of the Sal’uch,
But naught could stop our pursuit.
Each sea-worthy vessel took to the waves
That now rose to the height of The Mother,
With many sinking beneath the depths
Or ruined by the Beast’s designs.
Through these perils did the force push on,
And drove the Beast towards the shoals.
It was here that it made its final stand -
Unleashing every horror it could -
And though many tried, only one was fated
To deliver the final blow to the Beast of the Deep.
Amidst hordes of jellies fought the crew of The Drokjaw,
All stalwart in the face of death,
Though only one remained at the end of the onslaught.
Whether by waves or jellies did the crew succumb,
Save Zephyrak, who felled dozens upon dozens of foes,
And dozens upon dozens of felled friends that had turned.
When naught but waves remained
Between Zephyrak and his goal,
He gathered the rigging together.
In his left hand was held the ropes
And in his right, a torn sail,
And through strength of will and skill, he piloted The Drokjaw forward.
Anger and sadness pushed Zephyrak onwards -
For his crew, for his people, for his home.
With a yell that echoed through the skies
For all of Aldwa to hear, he drove The Drokjaw
Into the Beast and lept from the wreckage,
Bearing the ship’s last ballista bolt aloft.
From high above the water he fell.
The Beast’s doom approached,
For so too fell the bolt that Zephyrak held,
And it was this that pierced the Beast’s eye.
It bellowed in agony and thrashed about its face,
Until mighty Zephyrak swung the bolt through its other eye.
Then, at long last, did the Beast still -
And so too did the sea -
And all present saw their tormentor sink beneath the water.
Thus it was that the Beast of the Deep,
Which threatened to end our people,
Was put to rest amongst the waves.
So that you will know of the Sal’uch’s strength
And how, through battles long sung,
We fought and died against the Beast,
‘Ere it was felled by Zephyrak the Shellcrusher
Upon the islands of its folly.
Through calm waters did the Beast rise -
Wine-dark waves that drowned the coast,
And from those did come waves of dead,
Soon known as jellies,
Who tormented those in retreat,
And plagued the city of Fogburrow thereafter.
Year on year passed without reprieve
For the bastions of our people,
Until with great risk was Snowrend reclaimed
In the twilight of the Beast’s terror.
For with the cold forges now warmed,
So too was the hope of peace.
From Snowrend came weapons,
From Crushfeather came food,
From all corners came warriors,
With strength of arms and mind, to Fogburrow,
Where the jellies were driven by the Beast
And from whence they would be removed.
So began the long campaign to free
The Foothills from the Beast of the Deep.
Ballistas fired bolts three-bodies long that flew
Alongside magic spawned by the new age -
In all ways did our people fight forward,
Until, wounded, did the terror seek safety in the water.
The Beast fled from the might of the Sal’uch,
But naught could stop our pursuit.
Each sea-worthy vessel took to the waves
That now rose to the height of The Mother,
With many sinking beneath the depths
Or ruined by the Beast’s designs.
Through these perils did the force push on,
And drove the Beast towards the shoals.
It was here that it made its final stand -
Unleashing every horror it could -
And though many tried, only one was fated
To deliver the final blow to the Beast of the Deep.
Amidst hordes of jellies fought the crew of The Drokjaw,
All stalwart in the face of death,
Though only one remained at the end of the onslaught.
Whether by waves or jellies did the crew succumb,
Save Zephyrak, who felled dozens upon dozens of foes,
And dozens upon dozens of felled friends that had turned.
When naught but waves remained
Between Zephyrak and his goal,
He gathered the rigging together.
In his left hand was held the ropes
And in his right, a torn sail,
And through strength of will and skill, he piloted The Drokjaw forward.
Anger and sadness pushed Zephyrak onwards -
For his crew, for his people, for his home.
With a yell that echoed through the skies
For all of Aldwa to hear, he drove The Drokjaw
Into the Beast and lept from the wreckage,
Bearing the ship’s last ballista bolt aloft.
From high above the water he fell.
The Beast’s doom approached,
For so too fell the bolt that Zephyrak held,
And it was this that pierced the Beast’s eye.
It bellowed in agony and thrashed about its face,
Until mighty Zephyrak swung the bolt through its other eye.
Then, at long last, did the Beast still -
And so too did the sea -
And all present saw their tormentor sink beneath the water.
Thus it was that the Beast of the Deep,
Which threatened to end our people,
Was put to rest amongst the waves.