The Sniper

JiraishinJiraishin skulking
edited October 2018 in The Blank Canvas
Concentrate. Grip well the knife.
His goal right now is to stay alive.
His next goal is to make a kill.
The sniper has reached his chosen hill.

Sheathe the dirk. Draw the bow.
The sniper's quarry awaits below.
In the valley a fray of sword and flame
While up above one man takes aim.

Steady breaths. Narrowed eyes.
The arrow released and true it flies.
The enemy gasps and looks to the hill
But the sniper is hidden in shadow still.

Two more arrows. The quarry falls.
Her soul is banished to Ugrach's halls.
Deathsight flares in her comrades' brains
Only then do they know the sniper's name.

Cover gone. No more time.
His goal once more is to stay alive.
The foe charge in but all too late--
With a warp the sniper is cities away.
The soul of Ashmond says, "Always with the sniping."

(Clan): Ictinus says, "Stop it Jiraishin, you're making me like you."


  • KresslackKresslack Florida, United States
    This is great! Thanks for sharing.

  • Ada said:
    He needs that anti-deathsight artefact! :grin:
    Spent more credits. Now he's safe.
    Artie whoring saves the day.           

    The soul of Ashmond says, "Always with the sniping."

    (Clan): Ictinus says, "Stop it Jiraishin, you're making me like you."
  • Wrote another poem today, didn't think it was worth making another thread for. It's a totally different style than I what I usually do and I can't decide if I like it or hate it.

    For you non-ex-Adikoi: Umbriel, the Muse of Suffering, was a denizen from Apollyon's Temple. She was really cool, and Jir was a bit obsessed with her.


    You drag yourself to the mountain peak
    Alone from the pit, and you stand at last
    Shivering, scarred. The rocks have torn
    Wounds in your hands. And you stand alone
    On your own power. All around is the cold
    And the mists swirl close with every breath.
    You look around, to a blue-grey sky
    That shines like steel, like cobalt steel
    Like the knives of Suffering, sharp as your pride
    You are part of the air, and far below
    The pits no longer keep their hold
    And the sting of your wounds is the counterpoint
    To the joy that sings in every nerve--
    This is the song of Umbriel,
    She of the glittering cobalt eyes
    That shine like steel when it catches the light--
    Though she stands in shadow, unseen by most
    Yet heard by all. She is Suffering's Muse.
    You hear her song when the last note fades
    In the sudden absence, in the sense of loss
    You realize what sang through your nerves that moment
    You realize you will kill to hear it again.
    Without her music there is only the cold
    The blood and the fog, and all that you did
    To hear her song. Be comforted then,
    That though she has vanished she is never gone
    (Cold comfort, ever your only kind
    Child of a harsh land, man of Baelgrim
    There were no green fields in your mountain home).
    She is the beauty in Evil's soul
    She is persuasion and temptation, Muse of wounded pride
    You long for her touch, which is longing itself
    So her hands are ever plunged into your heart
    And her song wraps tighter around you still
    Like the chain on your arm with hooks buried deep
    She is there in the darkness behind your eyes
    Standing here now on a cliff named for Solace
    Green fields and green trees, a river below
    From which silver mist rises, foreign land, your new home
    Hymns hail the dawn, in its cold you remember
    You have done things you can never take back
    Of your own will, for the sake of a song.
    Your price is that knowledge, the scars on your flesh
    A soul bent out of true, a chain hooked round your heart
    And that hope always speaks now in Umbriel's voice
    Which you cannot dare heed, or succumb to illusion
    Cannot leave behind, or succumb to despair
    And will not forget, or let others forget--
    She was your love, in a land of no solace
    She spoke words of comfort when you were alone.

    The soul of Ashmond says, "Always with the sniping."

    (Clan): Ictinus says, "Stop it Jiraishin, you're making me like you."
  • Bumped/necro'd to ask:

    Does 'The Sniper' seem sufficiently location-related to be a decent entry for the Map-themed Bardics?
    The soul of Ashmond says, "Always with the sniping."

    (Clan): Ictinus says, "Stop it Jiraishin, you're making me like you."
  • I sense absolutely nothing related to maps here
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