Andulan was mildly surprised, rocked forward in her property,
Thoughts of concern briefly washed over her face, filling her with fright.
Six loyal snakes stopped in front of Sharin's adept, wielding song as weapons,
John instantly saw what the carriage before him represented, it was Toblin's transport.
After much song between them, the seven musicians rallied behind his cry,
This madness will go on no longer!
Swords dipped in granted blood, tinted green from lineage,
Coated them in deep, fearful respect.
Dating back to mankind's terrorized past,
Unsheathed themselves from leather length and raised a concerted answer,
To foolish devotion.
Though they wore blue upon gloves, dangling from their necks,
Opaque pendants attached to black thongs, swung back and forth,
As the force of movement, more severe in its intention than most men could muster,
Brought fearsome resistance before desperation,
They need our help, there must be survivors, there has to be...

In the moment, inside her entitlement,
Andulan yawned mildly, keeping her wits about her,
Those draining her below stopped for a time.
Looking outside her faded glass window, behind purple drapes,
Drawn back to uncover why she was tired, morning was here,
Despite youth and stillness, she still bowed before forces,
Observed by common melodies, it was the life inside her,
Clawing at her insides, yearning for more blood that did it,
Be patient my dear, soon enough you'll be fed,
Castle Sanguinair is ripe with flesh and wine,
A color most divine.

Paul turned to face his brother,
Rick returned his gaze, wiped his left eye,
A leather thumb hidden from everyone,
Picked up black pitch and vile sweat, staining it with liquid darkness.
Both saw what their tireless work, Sharin's charge had covered them in.
Dappled, dirt caked skin, a stench masked by noise,
War kept them too busy to bathe, song was like water now,
It was needed to sustain life.
Seven ways to continue dismounted to collect,
Together, around a stream.
John aimed to press further on, regardless,
Rick redrew his bowstring, kept it taut,
Paul stood beside Rick, his polearm planted firmly at Sharin's side,
Kevin thought it best to turn back, Albert plucked a string to his support,
As did Richard with his bow wearing a fresh layer of rosin,
Christopher's flute, seldom used was anything but resolute,
It played a solemn solo, saw no other course of action,
Sharin wasn't sleeping well today...

Doubt swarmed them, passing between their solidarity,
Rick didn't like the tone of things just beyond the next hill.
He'd grown acute to the scent of omens,
Told his horse to stop, kicking it to obey.
His brothers noticed his song's melody shift from behind.
A tune in his head kept his hands and feet empowered,
However they shook and fidgeted,
Anticipation brought anxiety over his heart,
Choking and bringing cold to its chambers.
Dungeon birth was his reality, a past best forgotten,
Never did he run or play unrestrained, bars were his friends,
He learnt to count them as people he could trust.
A flash of silver, its strength mythical,
Those hands cool and warm, eyes set on things yet unseen,
Rescued him from a dead woman's arms, those of his mother.
Inscriptions carved into his hands, written along his legs,
Cast onto both feet, glowed painfully, reminding him to stay present.
She needs me...

Four wheels and one snake,
Rode ahead towards an already decided conversation,
Cornelius would resist at first, his logic clashing with mine,
His mind wet and delicious, his breeding second to none,
I can respect his skill and upbringing,
I'll even let him hold onto his choices, his honor and vision,
Of a better future for those serving under his hope,
An unblemished neck is something of an acquired taste,
I look forward to his love.

Sharin's troupe requested horses,
Were given destriers to ride back into serenity's dominion,
Sitting atop animals raised to believe in nothing yet die for everything,
Costly saddles lifted from slain foes, torn from stilled blue.
Brought images of black and red into tearful focus,
They are just orphans, abandoned by an uncaring world,
Why would Toblin want to despoil such temporary innocence?
They all came to a shared conclusion,
Suspected greedy gold enclosures, sought to capture her,
As she slept below the soil that was her's to give,
Restored and given back to destructive children, who'd broken all their toys.

Truth be told though her vassals reportedly died,
To the last man, cut down by voice and guided steel,
Left floating dismembered and forgotten,
In a duet of song and venom.
Reality spoke as a contrarian.
For you see those flowing jade robes, with emerald armor beneath.
Decided it would be wise, to don a different disguise,
I can still keep them fed, if only modestly,
My royal blood is ours, for all my family,
I am house Venom now, the last Ivy keeper.
Since boyhood brought them to me, they've graciously accepted,
What was given to them was power, it made them stronger, wiser,
Incisive enough to slice as we do through theories and viewpoints,
Less often steel upon throat than words upon logic,
Felling disobedience before points could be taken back and,
Reforged into rallying force to bring the hordes against us.