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Fenriswulf

Zombie
May 8, 2011
30
The Skaven

Once with moonlight winsome, I pondered, wreathed in crimson,
Over many an ancient and mysterious volume of forgotten lore,
Whilst I schemed, ideas hatching, suddenly there came a scratching.
As of some fiends nails wildly rasping, rasping at my chamber door
`'Tis some ghoul,' I murmured, `clawing at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, with fondness I remember, t'was the end o' last November,
And each separate living member fought their last upon the moor,
The King from beneath the Barrow, with fiends unleashed to harrow
Amongst the fields and farrow - farrow dying by the score
Controlled by the crimson maiden, chanting incantations of ancient lore
Unholy death driven onward, evermore.

And the soldiers duty burden brought their death ever certain
Thrilling me - filling me with a bloodlust never felt before;
But now their screams whisper fleeting, a heart beat barely beating
A lonesome dirge repeating the glory found upon that dank forgotten moor,
Now only the sound of grasping, a single solemn rasping, rasping at my chamber door; -
This it was, and nothing more.

Presently my rage grew stronger, set to suffer no longer,
`Ghoul', said I, `or fiend, your hunger I shall not ignore;
But the invasion I was hatching, broken by your unwanted scratching,
My schemes simply matching, matching those planned before,
Same flesh I seek to feed you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Moonlight there, and nothing more.

Stood I in that moonlight peering, seeking the sound that I'd been hearing,
That shattered the study of tomes no mortal had delved before;
But here the silence went unbroken, and the moonlight gave no token,
No shade or wraith awoken to wander restless outside my door,
A sepulchral remembrance of lives taken not long before,
Moonlight alone, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my curiosity within me burning,
Soon came that scratching somewhat louder than before.
`Simply,' said I, `simply it comes from the window lattice -
Cloaked by curtains damson, darkly draped from roof to floor,
Behind them something lurks, and this secret I shall explore'; -
But 'twas only the wind, and nothing more.

Open then I flung the shutter, when, with many a scratch and scutter,
In leapt a blighted skaven like those many rats encountered once before.
Not the least entreatment made he; not a second stopped or stayed he;
But driven by purpose plainly, with dagger set to settle score,
Dagger drawn to end my existence from this world, and even more,
Dagger, wicked, and evil to it's core.

Then this ragged rat beguiling my blood rage into smiling,
By the rabid and scarred visage upon the countenance it wore,
`Though thy fur be torn and taken, thou' I said, `art thou now forsaken.
Assassin trained by ancient skaven hidden within earthly tunnel's core -
Tell me who sent thee to seek my exit from this world's mortal shore?'
Quoth the skaven, 'Nevermore.'

Much this rat circled ungainly, and giving certain answers plainly,
Though its answer held no meaning - no relevance it bore;
For in its dagger gleaming that had slew many a human being
Ever blessed by foul magics poured by warlocks once before -
The skaven set to murder me upon my chambered floor,
My eternal soul vanquished evermore.

But the skaven, steeling lonely that dagger, spoke only,
That one word, as if his malice in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further did he utter - neither squeak nor scutter -
Till I barely hissed than muttered 'Another seeks my end once more -
No morrow shall see thee, neither thy oath thou hast forswore.'
Then the skaven said, 'Nevermore.'

Smiling at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what thou utters is thy only stock and store,
Ingrained by some hateful master whom sends me this disaster
Running rats and artful assassins in singles, swarms and waves galore -
To cease the dirges of the dead and darkest necromantic lore
Till restless dead be silent once more.'

But the ragged rat still beguiling all my rage into smiling,
Straight I stood in front of rat crouched upon my chamber floor;
Then, between a moment's blinking, I betook myself to linking
Enemy unto enemy, thinking whose mission this rat did bore -
What this rabid, deranged, ragged, wretch and insidious skaven of yore
Meant in saying `Nevermore.'

Thus I stood engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the rat whose blood red eyes burned to my very core;
In this moments teaching, mine eyes were set to reaching
To the sword that hung shining in the firelight gleaming o'er,
An ancient sword, old and powerful, in the firelight gleaming o'er,
Ancient hate to be unleashed once more!

Then, methought, the rat grew tenser, informed by an unseen sensor
As to whence it best to strike me lifeless to the marbled floor.
`Beast,' I swore, `thy master hath lent thee - by foes he has sent thee
Assassin - vengeful and vindictive against my actions of before!
Thou life is now forfeit, and upon thee shall my wrath now be bore!'
Quoth the skaven, `Nevermore.'

`Assassin!' said I, `thing of evil! - assassin still, if rat or devil! -
Whether skaven sent, or whether fate sent thee to explore,
Desolate yet still undaunted, on this darkened land unwanted -
On this place by horrors haunted - my will you shall not ignore -
Who has sent thee to seek my end? My command you will not ignore!'
Quoth the skaven, `Nevermore.'

`Assassin!' said I, `thing of evil! - assassin still, if rat or devil! -
By the tunnels that reach beneath us - by the power we both adore -
Tell me now ragged skaven, who it was who sent thee to mine own haven,
To set a stone above my head engraven with enchantments of lore -
Lest my wrath upon thee be taken, and my chamber awash with gore!'
Quoth the skaven, `Nevermore.'

'Be that word our sign of parting, befouled fiend!' I hissed upstarting -
'Let thy blood be my tempest feast, I shall suffer thee no more!
Leave no rent of flesh as a token of that lie thou hath spoken!
Soon shall my study be unbroken! - To ghouls I shall feed your bloody gore!
Take thy wretched blade in hand, and let us settle this unfinished score!'
Quoth the skaven, 'Nevermore.'

And the skaven, no longer chitting, as best befitting, as best befitting
His head now adorned in pride of place above my chamber door;
And his mouth has all the seeming of a demon set to scheming,
Recitation of a worthless word that would inflame me to my core;
That squeaking voice once incessant now is as silent as the moor
And shall be heard - nevermore!
 

Count Darvaleth

I <3 marmite
True Blood
Apr 26, 2010
3,407
Oh! It's in verse! How awesome! :happy:

I'm bookmarking this page to read after my work. How lovely!
 

Fenriswulf

Zombie
May 8, 2011
30
Thanks, something that had been brewing for a while. Not a pinch on the original "The Raven", but alas, we all can't be Poe.
 

Fenriswulf

Zombie
May 8, 2011
30
Thanks Duke! And I agree, the whole "winsome" thing had to be put in because I really didn't want to begin with 'dreary' nor 'weary' in the first line because they don't really fit with the feel of a Vampire (I'd reckon Dreary would be their cup of tea to be honest).

Cheers for your thoughts, very much appreciated!
 

Zephyr

Master Necromancer
True Blood
Mar 3, 2008
2,522
Rotterdam
As both a fan of Poe and the Skaven I say well done.:thumbsup: Loved reading this, hardly see anything based on the great classics these days.
 

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