Njal Grimmsson - Fighter Poem - Norse verse

Njal Grimmsson
fallen in Crown Tourney, A.S. XXVI

(Norse verse)

Frigid-water rigger, / Rider of the tide-foam,
Seeking after vict'ry / Satisfied in battle.
Grimm's son come to landfall / Claiming right of fighter,
Njal, weapon-wielder, / Warrior ripe for glory.

First to face, Valkyrie: / Vanquished fondest Bronwen -
Odin's daunting daughter - / Daring wrath of Asgard.
Risked the gods' displeasure; / Doubtless, won the bouting.
Called to plague his progress: / Kinsmen-fighters, writhing.

Now Njal knew vengeance, / Visited blades-bristling.
One and then another / Angry, knight and mighty,
For the maiden maddened. / Fought though over-wrought were.
Skills esteemed in killing, / Each sought best to teach him.

Rooted tree of battle, / Rocked and cleaved by grievers.
Whittled as they whetted / Appetites untiring.
For his part right-hearted, / Rents he gave aplenty.
One and then another / All sent to Valhalla.

Ferried to their reck'ning, / Four good knights misfortuned.
Two more blades were broken - / Brothers to the others.
Njal a dozen after / Heartsblood, struck no art'ry.
Hale, they did not kill him; / Hewed but cut not through him.

Mighty Viking fighter, / Fearing nothing, clearly!
Lone wolf facing all whom / Angry gods have sanctioned.
Smelling ale of victory, / Sensing happy ending.
Thins the pack attacking - / Two more fights till glory.

Comes to fore Sir Tim'thy, / Sister-fighter missing.
Keen his blows, unending: / Bends his will to killing.
Fierce his foeman, aiming / Artful wounds to heartwood.
Tree of battle feels it, / Injury enduring.

Last avenger, Ivan, / Illustrated killer.
Lone wolf bares his sharp teeth. / Thinking not of shrinking.
Brave in battle living; / Goes to death unfettered.
Odin's wrath is ended. / Welcome warrior-fellow.

Frigid-water rigger, / Warrior bent on glory,
Seeking for your fortune - / Finds Njal Valhalla.

-- Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

Sir Karolyi Attila Laszlo - Fighter Poem - Norse verse

Sir Karolyi Attila Laszlo
fallen in Fall Crown Tourney, A.S. XXIX

(Norse verse)

Well-favored warrior, / wielding dragon's claw
Fell to fighting / foemen, boldly.
Battle-bringer, / bearing war scars,
Ardent Attila, / avenger of Vikings;
Christina's consort, / come for conquest
Questing Caid's / crown and kingdom.

Fierce the field, / festooned with fighters:
Knights and nobles / and nimble killers.
Sven unswerving; / Valrik, valiant,
Dealt the dragon / deadly damage.
Rose this roamer / of the swan's road
Determined dragon, / yet undaunted.

Now the field narrows, / knights need killing:
Attila obliges, / eager as ever.
Yaroslav slain; / Sir Donald severed.
German Jacob / just-so troubled.
Left is Luther, /last to master
'Fore he can / face the final trial.

Fate is fickle, / favoring fighters;
Saving some for / sallies elsewhere.
Attila tested, / thus it must be;
Luther has left him / lifeless, finished;
All Attila's / ambitions ended.
Game now progresses, / gone beyond him.

Final fight will / favor Ivan:
Wierds have wrought this; / words were spoken.
Christina cries now, / consoled by no one,
Yearning yet for / her young dragon.
Alas! Attila, / ever-eager!
Vying for victory, / vaults to Valhalla.

-- Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

...is a 15th century Burgundian cloth merchant who thinks she's a 10th century Viking weaver, and who occasionally falls under the influence of the poetic Muse.

Sir Donald Cathchern - Fighter Poem - Norse verse

Sir Donald Cathchern
fallen in Fall Crown Turney, A.S. XXX

(Norse verse)

Cast off by Celts, Cathchern wanders
Destined for Denmark, undaunted,
Where horde-friends welcome his sword-arm;
Meat and mead now his measure.
Bear-brother's heart is unburdened;
Close-held companions his comfort.

Comes a great contest: Contenders
Seeking success, skills will sharpen.
Cathchern encouraged, crown-clambers -
Tourney-bound to test his mettle.
Doughty Don dares dream of glory
Kingdom and Crown Cathchern yearns for.

Agelos advances, ever hopeful;
Donald dispatches Donwenna's sweatheart.
Likewise Llewellyn left lifeless;
Marina mourns, missing her man-son.
Just so he jousts with Sir Joseph -
Silveroak sends Donald sailing.

Donald redoubles his efforts;
Gathers more gold-horde from Gavin.
Crescent Crown now calls to Cathchern,
Bekoning bear-brother onward.
Airily approaches the Aardvark;
Loch Carron leaps - Donald's leveled.

Contest continues without him;
Donald's dreams, once bright, are dampened.
Cathchern comes to his consort;
Scannlach consoling, gives comfort.
Gone is the goal and the glory -
Brother of bears' best was bested.

-- Mistress Philippa Schuyler

...weaver of words and wadmal