Nerdiest Thing Lately

A couple of weeks months ago my wife hosted an in-game, in-character poetry slam on WoW.  I felt compelled to bring my Tauren epic poet, and I wrote this poem for the occasion.  This is my first longish poem of any kind, and almost my first effort in this meter. If you're interested, this poem is written in an old Nordic alliterative verse-form called Fornyrðislag, on which more here. I might make more like this later, either about Warcraft or not.

If you're intrigued or confused by some of the compound nouns like spear-ash and axe-grove, these are poetic devices called kennings. Kennings are used partly to fit subjects into the constraints of the meter and partly to be amazing in their own right. For most of the ones used here it suffices to know that tree = man, so for example spear-ash = spear-man (Tauren?) = warrior. The kennings are the best part, like the chocolate chips in your ice cream.

Like most such poems, it's a lot better if you already know the story.

The Lesser Lay of Cairne

By Zeniine Dawnstrider

So.
In Barrens lived,
in bygone days,
those bold warriors
the Bloodhoof tribe.
Under Mu'sha's glow,
An'she guiding,
with centaur strove;
the Sun watched all.

Chief above all,
spear-ash, Cairne bold:
centaur banesman,
strong and fierce in war;
generous ring-breaker,
just in peacedays,
poetic, wise, and good,
that prince led them.

As I have heard,
while hunting in Needle-bed,
Cairne a might warr-
ior met, in battle
with Galak brutes,
the bane of many foes.
The orcs, his axe-grove,
addressed him Thrall.

To Oracle seek, were
the orcs in the land,
their fate to find
in far Stonetalon.
Great sword-sea of
centaur wights, did
the orcs near pass,
northward-bound for war.

Their aid did offer,
(accepted wise Cairne,)
Bloodhoof defend,
darkening spears.
Away to battle, the
allies did chase.
Drums filled the air,
soon fed the wolves.

Marauders were crushed
'neath might of arms.
The axes of orcs
ran ochre with gore,
Shu'halo spears
shone red like fire.
With centaur strove,
the Sun watching all.

(Cairne said:)
"The centaur wights
stronger waxen;
move on we must,
Mulgore beckons!"
Barrens crossing,
bargains Cairne: for
orcs' battle-help,
to Oracle guides them.

The New Horde's seeds
did hie westward,
hyenas gorging,
Galak slaying.
Soon grass did grow
green 'neath their feet.
Mulgore they gained
by Mu'sha's grace.

With giving of gifts
and guidance, north turned
Thrall, noble war-chief,
thane of foe-killers.
Doomhammer's son, his
doom to know, in
kinship left he
Cairne of Bloodhoof.

In Thorim's Cliffs,
Cairne did him rest;
his rowans took root,
where roam the kodo.
In Mulgore settled
spear-maples weary,
their striving done;
the Sun watches all.