Ballad of Soturna

Founding of Soturna

FOUNDING OF SOTURNA

Where if the longest of all the Rivers

crosses by the foot of the hill cleped Dzall,

then you shall see where the land of Soturn,

settled by the forefathers of us All.

First was my Fav’rite, the man Doriem,

after was his Brother, Gold-ritch afore.

Strong was the man highted Sarin Mizto,

stronger was the girl whose Bairn that she bore.

This quartet had the power of the Gods.

Sairus brought them ‘cross the water in bight,

Johran put the wood and stone in the ground,

and Mirun gave them to exhume with might.

Oh, Mirun! Mayhap, the king of all Gods!

He gave man the might and right to think,

and when morality shall manifest

itself,

it shall be swith as His own righteous blink.

The first building up was the town Cap’tol,

which was built by Doriem’s own two hands.

Erected the struts of mahogany,

the best of woods of the large, wide lands.

Following the grand construct of The Cap’,

were mickles of other important shacks.

Light posts and wells were put up and dug down,

and roads cut through the little town like cracks.

Thus, born with the Baby was the town of

Soturna. Chortled he who was father,

and skipped the streets, in fain!

And popped the boy on his shoulders, and hight

Strother, the bravest of names!

And Sarin, with his wife and younk, went up.

The house he’d built by the sweat of his brows,

blazed in flames of envious smite. And they

who were respons’ble were slaughtered like cows.

Only Strother survived, and with him a

pendant of pure pewter, gleaming in night.

And thus the first peoples of Soturna

had returned to Heaven, with hearts alight.

So remained Devon Gold-ritch, and his wise

brother in arms, shining like a bright gem.

He sat humbly on his old humble throne,

the old, brave, and wise man, great Doriem.

And led us, did he, old man Doriem,

with his beard of silver and eyes of glass,

for many years we lived in silent peace,

until came out the building, working class.

The wood became stone, and brick, and clay blocks,

and soon our meagre people, four-hundred,

became four thousand with two meagre knocks.

And like mice, had eagerly went and bred.

So populous, was the town within walls,

and settlers took resources and left.

They built their own cities, under Soturn,

but without their leader they felt bereft.

And no men’s lands in this side of the world

could compare to the soil of Soturna Grand.

This soil wasn’t fertile, it was dusty.

All t’was useful for was decorative sand.

Years went by, and Soturna grew and grew.

But the Mortal Fathers of the Mortal City,

began to dwindle, and The Assassin

snuck and slew Doriem out of pity.

Soturna's people alacked, lynched the fool,

And released his soul back to their heavens.

And searching for a new leader, they looked

Up to their forefather, Gold-ritch Devons.

But Dev, his body in ill condition,

Was on his bed of death, and couldn't serve.

And so the people searched the orphanage

And found forgotten Strother, strong in nerve.

He'd no idea he was of blood of Miz-

-to. This fact'd been hid for most of his life.

The people of Soturn had chosen him,

Despite him being too young for a wife.

He had accepted it with open arms,

But they all tasked him to go out and see,

The opinions of all the city-states,

And to know if, by gods, they'd eke agree.

He set out on the lands, and trekked far’n wide,

met many people and asked them their thought,

whether Strother Mizto should lead them all,

or whether he should not.

But on his ol’ way, a slithery man,

snuck up behind him and stole the Pendant.

The Pendant his parents held and died for.

Passed down to each of the heirs descendant.

Stole away, was Strother’s mind, and he did

not notice the pendant as being gone.

But when he took notice, without begear,

and didn’t stop running till it hit dawn.