Writing Forums

Writing Forums is a privately-owned, community managed writing environment. We provide an unlimited opportunity for writers and poets of all abilities, to share their work and communicate with other writers and creative artists. We offer an experience that is safe, welcoming and friendly, regardless of your level of participation, knowledge or skill. There are several opportunities for writers to exchange tips, engage in discussions about techniques, and grow in your craft. You can also participate in forum competitions that are exciting and helpful in building your skill level. There's so much more for you to explore!

Lindsaga (1 Viewer)


I cometh of Lindsay, of Lindsay I sing
And the last of the Kings of the Linds
The last and the greatest of Lindish campaings
Now their souls fly free on the winds

A Prince of the Danes, Hwéoca was
He cometh ashore by the Humber
Five thousand Danes accompanied him
To throw old England asunder

He came with a mission, that Danish prince
As to cometh ashore by the Humber
The exiled Prince sought to credit his name
His method was conquest and plunder

O'er river and stream, through forest and field
The messenger rode to Ligera
He enter'd the ceaster, delivered the news
Of the landing of Danish Prince, Hwéoca

Æþelric, King of the Lindish Men
Quoth he, "Death be had by those Danes!
Their King I befriended, to have them invade?!
Messenger, gather my Þegns!"

Huscarls gathered, farmers rose up
The sword and the spear were held high
Æþelric rode at the front of the line
Today, he would conquer or die

There at the shore, they spotted the Danes
In a village they'd already raided
Hwéoca had let them take to the town
Their prizes they proudly paraded

Æþelric ordered the lines formed up
A long wall of shields was formed
The Danes sallied out to conquer the foe
But before they could fight, they were stormed

"Slaughter the bastards!" Æþelric sounded
As his Saxons trampled the Danes
"Nay shall you leave this glorious field
'Til pints of their Danish blood rains!"

The Lindish men pushed the foreigners back
A thousand Danes fell 'neath their feet
They kept going forth, to victory's light
'Til Hwéoca was forced to retreat

The Lindish men cheered, they shouted with joy
The Hrafnlandeye came down
The banner of Lindsay was run up the post
The Linds had taken the town!

Æþelric spoke, "Don't celebrate yet
You see that he marches north?
Hwéoca goes to Deira's border
We're in for more than it's worth"

"Why do you worry?" so spoke Séoðor
"He falleth away just the same!
We gave him a fight, he couldn't hold up
So leave him to live with his shame"

"You fool!" said Æþelric, "You knoweth naught
Of what Hwéoca has in his mind!
He goes to Deira to gather more soldiers
And more of his Danish kind!"

So leaveth he Séoðor to rebuild the town
And Æþelric marched to Eoforwic
The Danes would hide there, thought he to himself
That clever Lind King, Æþelric

But when he arrived, there wasn't a force!
Just a city, left open and weak
Æþelric ordered the city be raided
His plan, vengeance to wreak

The Saxons went forward, nay did they hold back
The city was razed by sundown
The livestock was killed, the women were taken
Screams drowned all other sounds

But foolish of them! As Æþelric found
Hwéoca had gone to Dæneceaster
And southward towards Ligera, a reformed army
For Lindsay, this was a disaster!

Æþelric's Saxons rushed back to their homes
Their homeland was once more invaded
Onward through day and through night they went
For their home, their lives would be traded

But, too late were they to stop Hwéoca's raid
They saw only utter destruction
Pallisades ran through the charred fields
Erected by Hwéoca's instruction

Dispirited, demoralized, the Saxons stared on
The Danes sallied out as before
The arrows rained, the shield walls broke
Hwéoca had settled the score

Two Saxon slave girls crossed over the field
They searched for wounded men
What they did find, to their mutual horror
Æþelric lay before them

His eyes were distant, his armor stained red,
From his chest protruded a sword
The Lindish king lay there, lifeless and cold
As the girls mourned the death of their lord

They took back the news to the Lindish camp
The Saxons would fight on no more
A Þegn delivered the news of surrender
And the death of the Saxon lord

Hwéoca had won his conquestive war
And left to return to his land
And the Kingdom of Lindsay will ever be known
For her bravest King's last stand

And so, I have told you of Lindish might
So that you may understand
No Kingdom will stand for eternity
Not even dear Ængla Land