[Northern Lights]

The Legend of Rook

     Of Northern Lands came he of whom
the tribes called Orookay
     The wolves did sing when he was born
that cold December day
     When he, of whom the Legend tells
would be the Soul of Death
     Whose razor spear and lightning speed
could take the Lagbeast's breath

     He slew his first at sixteen years,
the envy of his clan
     He did not use shield, sword, or spear,
but only weathered hands
     The head he placed upon a pike
and when his frenzy passed,
     He thanked the Goddess for his kill,
Swore it was not his last

     Winters passed and summers passed
Orookay grew in power
     Many foes died by his hand
By his Lagspear devoured
     But each new kill brought greater rage
A madness formed within him
     He could not sheath his bloodied hands
His soul began to dim

     At last he had slain every beast
his mortals hands could slay
     So in his pride and arrogance
he challenged Baphomet
     The Duke of Hell himself its said
laughed at Orookay's duel
     but swore to show his power and
destroy this mortal fool

     They met inside his black domain,
The Hunter and the Devil
     All hellish minions gathered round
to watch in unholy reville
     They fought for days and nights it seemed,
and as the battle finished,
     Orookay drew a mortal wound,
his spirit was diminished

     And as the Duke prepared to rip
the soul from his dying foe
     A light formed a wall around Orookay,
and stayed the evil blow
     Orookay rose from the bowels of Hell,
but he knew his wounds were deadly
     and in his pain he cursed the Goddess,
for Death he was not ready

     "Thou are a fool" the Goddess said,
"Thy bloodlust has consumed thee"
     "So cursed forever shall you be,
to hunt these lands eternally"
     The Legend says Orookay wept
for he knew he had been doomed
     to walk the realm of Northern Lights
in a form of wraithly gloom

     The Clan did take his body and
enshrine it in a room
     Deep below the Old North Church
in a hallowed, granite tomb
     And upon the walls of this sad place
is scripted this old tale
     and people claim, on rainy nights
the walls will echo his wail


Last edited March 27, 1995.

aber@ludd.luth.se