The Epic of Homli Tahsgan
This book can be found in a chest in Faehrcyle. In the form of an epic poem, it recites the tale of Homli Tahsgan.
Coordinates¶
| X | Y | Z |
|---|---|---|
| 2823 | 84 | -3026 |
Transcription¶
Feel the thunder!
Hear the roar!
Homli Tahsgan rode to war!
Son of Gehmli, Falcon's Scorn.
Under Loruhn's light was Homli born.
In fair Faehrcyle was Homli born!
While living in his father's care
Youthful Homli slew a bear!
He grew into a giant man.
And gained respect from all his clan.
No other rivaled Falcon Clan!
Eight feet tall and four feet wide,
Homli Golden-Hair wore the greatbear's hide.
But as he rode the steppe one day.
Something called from far away.
And Homli left for far away.
As Gehmli watched his fading stride,
Homli knew he had his father's pride.
With head held high, to parts unknown
Our story stays at Gehmli's home.
The Vile King came to Gehmli's home.
On Faehrcyle's steppe the army shone
Pewter army of a porcelain throne.
The Vile King and his thousand souls
Sought passage to the Mountain of Holes
Only to the Mountain of Holes.
Gehmli Tahsgan, fifty years wise
Saw the Maelihs in the fool King's eyes.
Falcon Clan told Avsohm "no"!
And away that cowardly king did go
Never North again did he ever go.
Two years later as Loruhn did rise
Gehmli spied two glowing eyes!
Though long and far and deep did he roam
Homli Tahsgan came riding home.
The Hero of the North came riding home!
While joyful, their reunion was brief
As soon their joy would turn to grief
Across the Steppe who else should come?
But a white army marching to a drum
Pewter army, porcelain drum.
Out to the battlefield the warriors ran
With all the might of the Falcon Clan
But none on the steppe could compare
To the might of Homli Golden-Hair.
To the blight of Homli Golden-Hair.
With every swing, the cold wind blew
He cleft the Avsohm ranks in two.
But one fell sniper drew his bow
And Gehmli fell into the snow!
White to crimson turned the snow.
And suddenly the fighting ceased
Avsohm fled, and the wind blew East.
Homli's scream filled their ears with fright.
And Homli's hair, from gold to white!
Homli Tahsgan, Mane of White.
For seven days the clans would mourn
And tell their tales of the Falcon's Scorn
But Homli knew that for them to fight
All the clans must decide to unite
All seven clans would need to unite!
So in the flames of Gehmli's pyre.
Homli reached straight into fire!
He withdrew a blade made of pure ice!
If the clans joined him, they must suffice!
Against Avsohm they would suffice!
The seven clans, joined as one
Awaited the sound of that Southern drum.
It started softly but it echoed again
The marching steps of thousands of men!
Tens of thousands of pewter-clad men!
Homli raised his jagged sword
The first and final Frostfang lord!
He summoned up a terrible gale
Lightning crackled and down fell hail
Across Drehmal, the world felt hail.
Feel the thunder!
Hear the roar!
Homli Tahsgan rode to war!
But he never met the enemy.
Instead, he sank to his right knee.
Homli knelt on his right knee.
The battle was over, but at what cost?
Homli had won, but Faehrcyle had lost.
Never again could tall grasses grow
In the land now always covered by snow
Homli was covered forever by snow
Though those of the south curse his name
Homli's name should bear no shame.
When Faehrcyle is in its darkest hour
Homli Whitemane will bring his power!
Homli Tahsgan will bring his power!