The battle of Framsburg
Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2022 10:46 am
So I'm not quite sure this one is ready to fly but I haven't made any changes in a year or two so that's a good sign also It's solstice and I'm feeling sentimental.
It is part of the saga of Eofor as sung in Rohan and is a poem in the heroic Anglo Saxon style, with many kennings and alliteration. I will probably record it at some stage if anyone is interested in hearing it read in the style of Beowulf and am sure to anyone familiar with that work, my own love of it will shine through this.
There is a line Elleth may understand better than others but please enjoy or move on as you prefer
The battle of Framsburg
Listen, the two troll hunters were known for courage and greatness
We have heard of those grim wardens
There was Eofor of the Black Tusk, fury in the field
A man of Rohan to start with, he wandered far from his home
Hunting the demon of his youth
And the skalds sing too of Heimir Brondolfson, the fiery hound
That canny fighter who dealt death from afar
Never would his arrows miss, while his bow string held
Many were the trolls who fell to these two
No greater score since Hurin himself
The weregild of Eofor was a heavy price
A trail led to Framsburg, home of his ancestors
No happy homecoming for the horse lord
His unrelenting feud drew him, nothing but war
An oath fulfilled, a return to his people
To ride again the grasses of the Westfold
These things drew him, nothing but war
Down through the mist bands the shadow stepper roved
To cross the bridge in search of flesh
He snuffed the watchers in the dark
A guardian stepped forth, straddled the span
The troll hammer, anathema to his foe
The fiend knew his name, a famous kin slayer
They met on the bridge, each hateful to the other
Roaring Eofor like a torrent down its bank
Ready for danger and eager for it always
Five times he struck, five fearsome blows
Still the rage of the ruin dweller was plain
He lunged at his foe, overpowering
Things would have gone poorly then for the son of Leofric
But for the man of Dale,
No hanger on in a heroes armour
Though Tilion slept at the tiller, the Hound erred not
Barbs burst skin, blood smoked forth
The great bow sang it’s war song
In behind his shafts flew Heimir, keen cutting edge in hand
He drove in with steel, the smiths masterwork
And like his namesake harried his prey
No harder contest had the scourge of men faced
He would pay a heavy price for this nights feast
For to drive off the hound he let go the boar
Thengels retainer was up, slaughter knife in hand
A murderous tusk to the ribs,
Bone lappings burst, Bright blood boiled forth
The Ogre keened it’s death note, it’s last harvest reaped
No more death mongering in the high country
Those brave men had dealt a fatal blow
Away from Framsburg they went by morning
Weighed down with war spoil and a star under sun
The body lay for wolves if any would touch it
The hunt would go on, death price still due
Hard tidings indeed for the proud Helmingas
Woe without ending, nothing but war
It is part of the saga of Eofor as sung in Rohan and is a poem in the heroic Anglo Saxon style, with many kennings and alliteration. I will probably record it at some stage if anyone is interested in hearing it read in the style of Beowulf and am sure to anyone familiar with that work, my own love of it will shine through this.
There is a line Elleth may understand better than others but please enjoy or move on as you prefer
The battle of Framsburg
Listen, the two troll hunters were known for courage and greatness
We have heard of those grim wardens
There was Eofor of the Black Tusk, fury in the field
A man of Rohan to start with, he wandered far from his home
Hunting the demon of his youth
And the skalds sing too of Heimir Brondolfson, the fiery hound
That canny fighter who dealt death from afar
Never would his arrows miss, while his bow string held
Many were the trolls who fell to these two
No greater score since Hurin himself
The weregild of Eofor was a heavy price
A trail led to Framsburg, home of his ancestors
No happy homecoming for the horse lord
His unrelenting feud drew him, nothing but war
An oath fulfilled, a return to his people
To ride again the grasses of the Westfold
These things drew him, nothing but war
Down through the mist bands the shadow stepper roved
To cross the bridge in search of flesh
He snuffed the watchers in the dark
A guardian stepped forth, straddled the span
The troll hammer, anathema to his foe
The fiend knew his name, a famous kin slayer
They met on the bridge, each hateful to the other
Roaring Eofor like a torrent down its bank
Ready for danger and eager for it always
Five times he struck, five fearsome blows
Still the rage of the ruin dweller was plain
He lunged at his foe, overpowering
Things would have gone poorly then for the son of Leofric
But for the man of Dale,
No hanger on in a heroes armour
Though Tilion slept at the tiller, the Hound erred not
Barbs burst skin, blood smoked forth
The great bow sang it’s war song
In behind his shafts flew Heimir, keen cutting edge in hand
He drove in with steel, the smiths masterwork
And like his namesake harried his prey
No harder contest had the scourge of men faced
He would pay a heavy price for this nights feast
For to drive off the hound he let go the boar
Thengels retainer was up, slaughter knife in hand
A murderous tusk to the ribs,
Bone lappings burst, Bright blood boiled forth
The Ogre keened it’s death note, it’s last harvest reaped
No more death mongering in the high country
Those brave men had dealt a fatal blow
Away from Framsburg they went by morning
Weighed down with war spoil and a star under sun
The body lay for wolves if any would touch it
The hunt would go on, death price still due
Hard tidings indeed for the proud Helmingas
Woe without ending, nothing but war
