This is just a little poem I came up with. It's about how Orin became Tudra. Let me know what you think.
In the darkness ere the world was made
On golden throne sat mighty Caltor
His servants, the Orya, ever did as he bade
But unhappy was one, and jealous of power
With time he made plans, and ceased to cower.
In those dark days Orin he was named
Others of the Orya soon joined to his cause
Taking up arms from a blacksmith called Fain
They marched against Caltor, dethroning the King
At their victory, Orin's allies did sing.
But loathe was Caltor to accept this defeat
Returning to his throne, he was filled with wrath
Taking Orin by the throat, he cast him from the seat
"I now name you Tudra*, a fitting name I deem
For thou surely didst doubt me, at least it would seem."
And so from Altera Tudra was cast
His rebellion was ended, his followers shamed
In the void would he stay, until the days last
His was now over, his cause was lost
But luck was with him, for few lives had he cost.
And so once again, Caltor's throne was restored
And in celebration the Orya did feast
Drinking, laughing gaily, singing praises to their lord
But in the dark void, Tudra was enraged
And to take his revenge, he would readily wait an age.
*Tudra means 'Doubter' in the language of the High Elves, which was also spoken by the Orya.
In the darkness ere the world was made
On golden throne sat mighty Caltor
His servants, the Orya, ever did as he bade
But unhappy was one, and jealous of power
With time he made plans, and ceased to cower.
In those dark days Orin he was named
Others of the Orya soon joined to his cause
Taking up arms from a blacksmith called Fain
They marched against Caltor, dethroning the King
At their victory, Orin's allies did sing.
But loathe was Caltor to accept this defeat
Returning to his throne, he was filled with wrath
Taking Orin by the throat, he cast him from the seat
"I now name you Tudra*, a fitting name I deem
For thou surely didst doubt me, at least it would seem."
And so from Altera Tudra was cast
His rebellion was ended, his followers shamed
In the void would he stay, until the days last
His was now over, his cause was lost
But luck was with him, for few lives had he cost.
And so once again, Caltor's throne was restored
And in celebration the Orya did feast
Drinking, laughing gaily, singing praises to their lord
But in the dark void, Tudra was enraged
And to take his revenge, he would readily wait an age.
*Tudra means 'Doubter' in the language of the High Elves, which was also spoken by the Orya.