Blood War Poetry

Baator's Minster of Supply, the Bringer of Spiritual Loss
Mistress of the Golden Coin, Patron of the Double Cross
Numerous names I am accorded, and whether spoken secretly or aloud
I openly embrace them all, for I remain forever aloof and proud
Of my draconic heritage, cleverly hidden behind my deceiving smile
Discouraging my servants' avarice whilst feeding my own all the while

So many times betrayed, by one who would not be content with two
Berk, think not yourself any better, I could persuade the same of you
I know how easy it is for I in turn was sold out, my brother--my life's only love
Walked away from the secret so preciously kept between us, in search of the realms Above
Everyone in this universe, I've since discovered, has their own attainable price
Paladine's own proxy? An Abyssal Lord? No matter, they can both be enticed...

Thousands have called one of my names, each in their despairing time of need
If there remains an eternal sin, it's most certainly the splendid one of Greed
Oh I know most have heard the tales, regaling in turn each of the Mighty Eight
"This one or that one is truly their leader" -- the original fiend who made the others great
There is a bit of truth in that chant, the dark of it isn't hard to understand
For now there are but Two of us who remain, not chosen by my or Furcas' hand

Mine is a formidable Ministry, the one which all baatezu ultimately worship or revere
Without jink they'd be powerless, a fact quietly known, never discussed--but feared
Dago's war couldn't continue without me, suave Zapan couldn't fund his schemes
Furcas could ne'er recruit a soul, what, without coin to lure their hopes and dreams?
(And Pearza certainly would be upset, without new items to later induce their screams!)
Corin couldn't pay his ba'atezu spies, during the rebellions Zaebos would immediately find
Zimimar was far too busy to quell them, pursuing those traitors who suddenly "resigned"..

Yes, I'd have quite a laugh then, giving me that rarest treasure of things
A genuine smile to my lips, a song for my broken heart left still to sing
Ah, but duty seductively lures me back, to my beloved Empire's dark embrace
Its grasp upon my soul one now so tightly entwined no man could e're replace
The metallic caress of coins against my taloned fingers is a blessing cold and sweet
I know that without living this life I chose that sacred circle would remain incomplete

So when you hear whispered the name of Baalzephon the Feared
Know then that the devil who bequeathed it to me was being completely sincere
Entire worlds come and go in a blink of my golden eye, millennia are nothing to me
For I was here long before the fortress Malsheem had even yet to come to be
So plot and plan and think you'll bob me later, forgetful over those years
You'll still have an eternity laid out before you, to pay me back in tears

Betray me if you dare, for I'll still be here...

All else are lies...
by Autumn Skye Port

It's an omen they say, the howling winds are fierce today,
The eye of Baator winks, beckoning us to march right away
To the Field of Nettles, yet we await, acknowledge one of the Eight,
Dread silence accompanies her presence, I question my fate.
The soldiers she commands with their utter loyalty in her hands,
Yet still she smiles -- and the dark of it I suddenly understand.

Of all the mighty fiends who control this bitter feud,
Zimimar knows her position is secure, it shows in her attitude.
There's a constant demand for jink and weapons, new strategies of war,
Discipline and recruitment, suave diplomacy even more,
Espionage, and its implementation, divulging long hidden truths,
But all this is for naught if not for the morale of the troops.

Everyday we fight proudly, to conquer the multiverse, our home,
Stoically enduring the grisly agonies involved, yet knowing we're not alone,
Cutters rise and fall while others wait, ready to take their empty place,
Fearing death nor failure, armoured by mere words amidst the dangers they face,
For she speaks to each of us in tones lyrical, bittersweet, but always strong,
"There's no such thing as an unwinnable war" -- the tanar'ri have it wrong.

Zimimar is beautiful in her own way, the pinnacle of what the baatezu are,
Her violet eyes still seem human, can her soul really be that far?
Meeting my gaze, I see upon her neck gruesome scars, long since healed,
Yet the fire burns eternally inside, consumes her with vindictive zeal.
She always grins, they secretly say--barmy, 'touched', in some awful way,
But in seeing her again I feel that I have been blessed today...

Well, berk, I was wrong -- falling first in the battle, falling hard,
Clutching the flimsy weapon given me as it was shattered into shards.
I saw my executioner's gaze, victorious with feral delight,
I remembered Zimimar's words, I would not give up the fight.
We exchanged death's embrace, and then it all became so clear,
The reason she felt she must lie, was simply that she once was here.

Perhaps the dark of it is too much for any one blood to bear,
And she finds her baatezu heart makes her far too proud to share.
The reasons why she sings, and smiles, and never cries,
Are really the painful inverse of the war's bitter suffering she must disguise.

I know now all else are lies...

(And so Avramarr dies...)

I dare to smile, I long to sing,
Things forbidden on this side of the Ring.
What I'd give to feel a Sensate's bliss at last,
But I can only look forward, for I remember no past.
No longer what I once was, yet in searching for the missing piece,
No pleasure can heal me, there seems no release.
The memories of pain and fear too overwhelming, too deep,
They haunt my soul whenever I pause to sleep...

Zimimar, of the Dark Eight

A Paladin Fallen
by Draegarius

Dusk to dawn, I lay between them, battling an enemy still yet unknown.
The moons shining, sword in hand, I battle shadows, the shadows of the land.

Dusk...Living memories, taking form.
The sounds hurt me, the cries mourn.

Dawn...An grassy field, a sunny grove, a fountain of water, the prophecies of Job.

Dusk to dawn, I rise to greet them, to greet an enemy still yet unknown.
The moon shining, sword in hand, I battle shadows, a shadow of a man.

Dusk...Evil lurks, unholy dread, a battle comes near, a feast for the dead.

Dawn...A field of battle, a grove of bones, a fountain of blood, the wolves cry out a moan.

Dusk to dawn, I stand among them, among shadows yet unknown.
The moon shining, sword in hand. I battle shadows, among them my own.

Dusk...The dead have feasted, my flesh is torn,
my memories scattered, my true self reborn.

Dawn...I embrace the dark shadows as I become one,
I turn to face my friends, as they begin to run.

Dusk and dawn, I fall between them, among shadows now my own.
The moon dark, my sword broken, I battle memories, flee my home.

Dusk, dawn, night and morn.
I give in to the dark, evil claws at my bone.
At a last cry, the dark I defy.
Pain lessens at last as I truly die.

Dusk to dawn, I have now have fallen.
I have fallen to dark, to the deepest abyss.
Yet even in death, fallen to a nightmare, just like in a story.
Yet even in death, I still hold my honour, still hold my pride and glory.

Dusk. Dawn.

Day...

The Baatific War
by Aaron Ansel

With what little strength remained,
We wearily readied our weapons
Far off, over the rise,
The first of the Baatezu appeared

Wicked talons gleaming,
Fiendish maws twisted into hideous smiles
As we prepared our final stand,
They did not attack...

...waiting...

Then he arrived, a Solar
Yet with wings and eyes of black
He stood with wings outstretched
Blazing with an unholy glory

We were ready to die
Guardinal, Aasimon, Eladrin, and allies
The warriors of Good, gathered together
For a final stand against the Baatezu

The Bringing had been successful
Lucifer, the first of their kind,
A Solar fallen from heaven,
Had returned, to lead them to victory

Then trumpets sounded
Fiendish trumpets.
But they did not come from the Baatezu
And to the east, they appeared.

The Tanar'ri had come
Thought defeated with Lucifer's coming
Now intent upon one thing,
Stopping their eternal enemies

And they joined us

Then banners of white, red, and black
Appeared to the south.
The Rilmani too had come
To maintain the balance

And they joined us

Suddenly flashes of light
Chaotic, random, wild light
And suddenly among us was the Slaad
For the glory of Chaos and themselves

And they joined us

And there was hope

Finally the Baatezu trumpets blasted,
And a war cry of death was taken up
Many took to the air,
And the rest charged, weapons ready

We met them, head on.
Mighty Aasimon took to the air
The lupinals charged first
Fangs barred for Baatezu throats

Spells shot forth from both sides
Fire, lightning, cold, and acid
Most of all, the acid
And the blood of both sides ran red

We were losing

Mighty Pit Fiends were cut down
Invincible Solars toppled
Fiery Balors sank to the ground
And Lucifer laughed, unscathed

We were losing

Talisid, the Leonal prince,
Tore through the Baatezu ranks
He confronted Lucifer,
And was carried away close to death

We were losing

Finally the signal was given
My fellow Shiere Knights and I charged
We gained great glory that day
The few of us that were left

We were losing

Then I saw them
A Paladin, a Wizard, a Ranger
A Bard, a Fighter, and the Solar Michael
And they had the blade Fiendsbane

We had Hope

The Solar hefted the blade
And Lucifer was upon him
Blow after blow rained down
The Solar Michael was weakening

The Hope wavered

Lucifer smiled
A horrible smile
And he brought his blade down
Shattering Fiendsbane

The Hope shattered with it

Suddenly the Paladin
One named Brian,
Lunged at Lucifer,
Holy sword shining bright

And the Bard began to play
A song of peace and good
And Lucifer did battle with Brian
And Brian weakened

Suddenly something appeared in the sky
It was a portal,
To the Positive Energy Plane
And it was descending upon Lucifer

And Brian and Lucifer Battled

Then Lucifer, with a cry of glee
Brought his sword down upon Brian
And Brian fell
And the portal consumed them both

They were gone

A mighty cheer rose up
The Baatezu fled in terror
Many more fiends died that day
And many friendships were made

The Baatezu threat was ended
The Tanar'ri were elated
And the Celestials were tired
But our home was safe.

And thus it was ended,
At least for a while

Life Defined and Denied
by Dan Winston

As blood flows down the blade and stains my skin,
He turns to face a foe I cannot see.
I slump to find that now I cannot win.
What has sweet life meant all along to me?
The ground turns red beneath my trembling head.
Pain fades to show bitter folly of war.
What good is land and jink and gems to dead?
I know much now, too much, it seems, and more.
I went to prove my lord was in the right
By taking what was in his sight to take.
How wrong I was to go so far to fight
For he who knows not what wrong he doth make.
For now I close my eyes in blissful sleep.
Arcadia awaits, I cannot weep.

The Blood War Battlefield
by Center of All

The tiefling stood upon the field
Leaning there, upon his shield
When weapons no more could he wield
The Blood War battlefield.

The tiefling stood among the dead
And from wounds the landscape bled
The cursed, vengeful spirits fed
On weary, battered dead.

The tiefling stood within his home
Amidst the ruined ash and stone
The desolate watch was his alone
His wretched, ravaged home.

The tiefling lay upon the field
Lying there, upon his shield
Never weapons would he wield
The Blood War battlefield.

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