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EYRIE DAY SPECIAL

Volguld
By Concertogreat_8

Volguld, Volguld, mighty hero once,
Six score years ago and many, many months.
But now his tale lies untold, sifted into dust,
Armour forgotten, crumbling slowly to rust.

Volguld, Volguld, he had a story to tell,
Bravery and boldness were but a sell,
For indeed he was all of this and more,
And who says now, but he's merely a bore.

Knights and kings,
Diamond rings,
Olden day sorts of things.

Volguld, Volguld, he may have been worthy,
He surely would never have hid in anyone's lee.
Perhaps he had a life-long friend, a loyal steed,
He surely came first, never followed another's lead.

Volguld, Volguld, Eyrie of ancient lore,
Wrote about in fuzzy books, information poor.
Not much is known -- only a miniature blurb,
Like some insignificant sort of garden herb.

Knights and kings,
Diamond rings,
Olden day sorts of things.

Volguld, Volguld, maybe he was the first,
Of all the heroes near and far, best and worst.
Perhaps he was really born to lead,
Perhaps he planted the Hero Seed.

Volguld, Volguld, so far we have only guessed,
But mayhap it's our path never to rest,
Till we find the mystery that is Volguld.

Deadeye the Eyrie Pirate
By Stariell

Yo-ho-ho and here he be,
Old Deadeye the pirate Eyrie,
Master at the game table, he,
Best watch yer dice right carefully.

Yarr, avast, and cast yer net,
Deadeye takes all he can get,
So roll yer dice, and place yer bet,
'Gainst the craftiest Eyrie ye ever met.

A pirate's life ain't never fair,
Now if ye choose to roll, beware.
This stony old Eyrie corsair,
Will take yer booty without a care.

And when ye roll up old snake eyes,
He'll say that his dice never lie,
Now ye'd better hand over his prize,
Or somethin' nasty he'll devise.

Yo-ho-ho, now don't be too sad,
Though ye'll have lost all that ye had,
Old Deadeye ain't quite that bad,
Ye can keep the shirt in which yer clad!

The Eyrie Spectre
By _Razcalz_

Questing hero, brave Rohane,
He fights to save the land.
Darkness ruling o'er his home,
Its fate lies in his hands.
Evil Zombom, wizard sly,
Has raised White River's bridge.
Rohane's off to find his foe,
Crossing mountain ridge.

Rohane journeys on the plains,
To wizard's tower vast.
Up the stairs he doth ascend,
To meet Zombom at last.
A figure rises as he goes,
To block his way ahead.
'Tis an Eyrie Spectre fierce,
The monster he has dread.

Eyrie hisses, swishing tail,
Trailing mist of teal.
Apparition of great size,
Much damage it can deal.
It snarls and lunges at Rohane,
Who barely jumps aside.
Rohane slashes in return,
A miss by distance wide.

Raging battle so goes on,
Decreasing Rohane's health.
He throws a potion at his foe,
Slowing Eyrie's stealth.
Rohane deals a mighty blow,
Defeating spectral ghost.
The hero's won, his way is clear,
A victory he will boast.

Threelegs's Travels
By Dragonstorm_75

Let me tell you a glorious tale,
Of a pirate of conquering might.
He struck it high with a snapping sail,
As he plundered through the night.

Cap'n Threelegs was his name,
With feathers of ivory white.
Sure he was quite well nigh lame,
But his heart was always alight!

One fine day he struck his craft,
Into the choppy waves.
He swung round the taut oak shaft,
To seek the hidden caves.

And yet the ship, she ran aground.
Left him on the rocks.
He searched for shelter and there he found,
A sealed wooden box.

Threelegs broke the scurvy thing,
And there inside he found:
Dubloons aplenty, with golden plating --
Coins indeed abound!

He made a ship with his paw,
And a sail he did alone.
His gleaming treasure brought forth awe,
He came here on his own?

And so with the gold did Threelegs build,
His famous training school.
And there he makes them sprogs be skilled,
In the art of the fighting tool.

To a Maraquan Eyrie
By Brilliance109p

Whilst meandering in sapphire seas,
By chance you may have luck to spy,
With ruffled chest of sapphire fur,
With wings the shade of clear blue sky;

A creature of most great finesse,
Majestic, sparkling, beautiful,
A flash of blue, a graceful dive,
A lazy flick of golden tail...

Effortlessly glide and gleam,
Tumbling through the pearly waves,
Through kelp and shells and sandy plants,
Amidst the tunnels and the caves.

So agile, swim in perfect time,
The ocean home sings to his heart,
Maraqua, where he spends his days,
And never will to be apart.

His eyes are sharp, his movements too,
He stretches, flips and then away.
He speeds on through his watery place,
Beneath the sun's fantastic ray.

Such glorious a Neopet,
So elegant, so bright a hue,
He turns and spins and gives a wink,
Then disappears into the blue.

The Eerie Eyrie
By Anjie

Idle circles, shadowed sky,
In spirals does he swoop.
Indigo, his form shall gleam,
He lowers with each loop.
Above the Citadel he glides,
So sinister, this land.
Gently feathers meet the breeze,
And massive wings expand.

Malice dwells within his gaze,
That scans the realm below.
Wicked sheen to narrowed eyes,
That with such wrath do glow.
Ominous his motions seem,
With eerie grace, he'll soar.
In the faded light, a gleam,
The glow of gnarled claw.

A haunting whisper in the sky,
His call shall echo, soft.
A taunting warning to the world,
As Eyrie soars, aloft.
Lingering, that eerie cry,
So wicked sounds that call.
Fading as he glides away,
A dire threat to all.

Thyora's Tear
By Yoyote

She came from a little village
On the tranquil Mystery Island.
Her days were filled with peace,
The way oceans never cease...
Till something terrible happened,
When the Skeiths came to pillage.

They came with fiery wrath,
Wrecking huts and taking lives.
Their victims fought and screamed...
It was the worst disaster dreamed...
They burned and slashed with knives
Everything within their path.

The villagers took up their hoes.
"I must go," cried Thyora's brother.
"Dear girl, you must stand by me...
Do you hear your neighbour's plea?
We must defend one another!
We must stand up to our foes!"

So Thyora rushed to guard
Her home, her precious tomorrow.
But what followed takes tears to tell...
For her brother Ponfrie fell...
He lay in the quietest sorrow
On a bed so scorched and scarred.

Against the burning world,
Beside the Kumlaa River,
The Eyrie knelt to weep...
For her brother would forever sleep...
His voice would now be a whisper
On the winds that ever whirled.

From out of this tale so tragic
There flowed a liquid power.
It protects in times of trial,
When love and life seem fragile.
Steadfast as the strongest tower,
It remains the purest magic.

Thyora's tear.

Portrait of an Eyrie: Lord Kass at Sundown
By Larkspurlane

In the last piercing ray of sundown
As the yellowing sun declines
A silhouette upon the Citadel is briefly lit,
But fades with the intruding clouds.

The figure stands armoured in shadow,
The fierce point of its beak directed
At the pastoral landscape below:
Upon Meridell's fields,
Its rocky brooks bearded with moss,
Upon scattered groups of farmers, children,
Their sweet songs, their simple delights:
His banquet.

He sees it as it will be,
Wreaked with devastation,
The movement, suddenly,
From happy to beyond hope;
They will be left with rock and ash,
Heaps of upturned turf, graves,
Their quiet fields, wide green waves,
Burned, livid wounds on the hillsides,
The spring hues, sun-speckled dells,
The chubby young faces,
Dried and gaunt, overcome by the fever
Of he who never has enough,
Who moves through paths
Of hunger, of ambition,
Of nerve and sinew.

(The Eyrie's smile is a dagger,
His look is fire,
It withers the twilight scene,
Burns it to dust,
White as bone,
And just as silent.)

Still Meridell is unconscious
Of these pains and these plans,
Not one soul looks up
To the Citadel casting upon them
Its long shadow, spiked, sad and wicked.

They wander between green hedges
Or through flowered groves,
Taking pleasure in a leaf,
A bramble,
A blade of grass,
In the sweet murmur of the mossy brook,
In the stars of evening,
In moths wheeling about,
In dwellings warm,
In the brooding moon new-risen,
In the living twilight,
In the life that he will take, who watches
From his dark nest.

Finally his great wings spread
And beat the dusky air,
He rises,
Now visible,
Now vanishing in halflight,
And flies pathless,
Smoke, a storm,
A whistle on the wind,
A wild and strange cry, a triumph;
Our lament.

Talinia's Quest
By Mamasimios

With faultless sight and virtue's might
Talinia frees her grasp so tight.
An arrow sails through inky night
To find its mark and end the fight.

What hero this in Eyrie form?
Leather armour doth protect her.
What dauntless deeds might she perform
With missile set upon its vector?

A quiver full of lethal darts
Upon her back and in her clutch.
A sturdy wooden bow whose parts
Respond with vigour to her touch.

From whence came this fearsome archer?
From fortress? Aerie in the clouds?
Did mournful mobs rue her departure?
Or did she disdain the crush of crowds?

Neither! For, as you shall see,
She's trapped in false reality.
At a Mountain Inn perched in the scree
Lone Eyrie awaits mortality.

Until within the lodge appears
A warrior dressed in shining mail.
Talinia spies him as he nears --
"Rohane, my Captain!" she doth hail.

Thus motley band begins their trip
Joining Mipsy, then Velm later,
While back upon their rocket ship
The four sit, trapped in a simulator.

And so upon their quest commence
Relishing their assignment.
Defeating bosses imposing, immense,
To end chimerical confinement.

Through Lost Desert and the Haunted Woods,
On to Faerieland to face Terask,
Talinia fights on the side of good --
Arrows fly in ranged attack.

And so did this Eyrie fulfill the Quest?
Was the Faerie Queen delivered?
Talinia's skills put to the test;
Arrows removed from her quiver.

With faultless sight and virtue's might,
Talinia frees her grasp so tight.
An arrow sails through inky night --
It found its mark to end the fight



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