The Maladies of Blikethus the Old
rating: +3+x

Once upon a day, in the land ruled under Its watchful gaze,
The noble beast known as Blikethus wandered in a haze.

In his youth, this creature stood tall and with thick fur,
And broader than the rivers in late summer.
His teeth flashed like the autumn leaves-
His claws struck with a hard flash.
Now, as he walks, his youth, he feels grief,
And when he climbs onto tree, he is bound to crash.
This beast was in search for the solace of a quiet place to rest his hooves,
His old bones creaking like branches as he wandered those woods.

Down by a river slow, he spotted the cane’s bed,
And, with joy, laid down to rest his head.
As he crashed into these grasses, he fell with a thud;
And all of the vermin turned tail for water and tree.
They jumped and they springed, and kicked up the mud,
And did this all over Blikethus, not forfeiting any fee.
They scratched and they knicked, leaving the giant's hide jank,
And Blikethus, disrupted, decided to crawl deeper down the bank.

The pests continued their running, and disturbed yet more,
And soon enough, a menagerie of predators broke from their doors.
Wolf, fox, salamander, and bird,
All flashed their fangs to feast on the chaotic haste.
They chased the vermin and ripped apart the herd-
The predators barked and spat as they made their chase.
As they shot and they yelped, poor Blikethus couldn't help but fret-
As he fled once more, yonder crevice making perhaps a quieter rest.

But yet his solace did not come, As the Men of the Woods emerged from their home.
They moved quickly and silently, not a sound surrendered them as they combed.
Suddenly, their yellow-eyes glowed sinister through the thicket-
And they deftly leapt into the fray, with hands of claw and blade.
They bore their stones, along with fang and wit,
And pounced on the creatures, wherever they strayed.
Then, when all had either fled to their shelters or bled at their feet,
They rejoiced and cheered, roasting their great feast.

But, they simply didn’t stop, their ruckus and raging unabated-
Blikethus, hiding in rock; these men, he hated.
He pawed at his ears, for the noises upset he,
But they grew ever louder, rejoicing their great bounty.
Finally, Bilkethus cried out, “Damn these fools!
How they bleat, polluting my slumber with loud tools.
How can an old beast like me, eyes blind as pearls
Find peace in this loud, fast world?”

Hearing his plea, It favored a glance,
And Its Majesty climbed down, to Blikethus’ fortunate chance.
With fine hands, It grabbed at their horn
And blew three strikes, conjuring a squall.
Its claws caught the clouds and carried him long,
He carried It's spear, its tip wicked, and length tall.
It was carried down, glowing eyes staring so geld-
To the glory of Blikethus; it was It's Majesty he truly beheld!

At this new oppurtunity, Blikethus slowly rose,
The titan slurred and explained his pose.
“I’ve wandered for decades, and lived through these woods,
I’ve hunted and slaughtered, and have even shared all of my foods;
Yet these fools, with their horns and their music and yelling of tales,
They curse me and continue to run amok without fail!
I ask of you this, and nothing more, be rid of these jesters-
Please, Quazai, my lord, make them, upon me, never pester!”

At this, Its Majesty could do nothing but laugh and roar,
How lowly this titan was, begging on the floor!
It gathered itself, and didn’t need but a second to compose,
It flashed its eyes groundwards, and roared its repose.
“Blikethus, you grow old and weak as slow-roasted tendon-
A mere viper could slink into this cave, and end your life with its weak venom!
Your claws may be gnarled, and teeth a dull tool,
Yet you still carry strength, you dull-witted fool!

“Your mass is still heavy, and your muscles like irons,
Your as sturdy as rocks, all when the duty requires.
So rise! He who was once my powerful champion!
These jesters know not that you wait beneath them.
Fashion your bed from their corpses, and lay low their loud band,
And enact my will and your purpose; for you forget the law of this land:
All that can breathe stands on the chain, and the apex reaps their goods,
And that, by my decree, is the law of these woods!”

Inspired, the great beast quickly rose to his full height-
He pounced from the shadows, much to prey’s freight.
He opened his mouth, and let loose his great thunder-
And, swiftly, the men knew they were damned.
He swung with his claws, talons layed sunder,
His teeth long as swords; on his horns they were jammed.
He slaughtered the men, claiming his dues-
They would pay for their transgressions, this insolent crew.

He swung into the group, taking first three, then six, then nine,
And gorged upon their bloodied bodies, a feast he did dine.
He trampled their tents and turned over pots, his stomps smothered flame;
These peoples cadaveres mixed well into their warm, thick meat-brew.
Any spear or ax failed to puncture him, as weak as the slap of a dame,
Their weapons useless, his assault claimed their lives too!
And all-in-all, he swung and he swang, and silenced their loud beat-
Until the men, like their prey, had either all fled back to their shelters, or bled at Blikethus’ feet.

Proud and noble and baptised in red, the beast carried its bounty to its cave,
And thus ends the story upon a day, in a land ruled over by Quazai’s noble gaze.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License