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<DIV align="center"><font face=1>Mannimarco, King of Worms<br>
By Horicles<br>
<br>
<DIV align="left"> O sacred isle Artaeum, where rosy light infuses air,<br>
O'er towers and through flowers, gentle breezes flow,<br>
Softly sloping green-kissed cliffs to crashing foam below,<br>
Always springtide afternoon housed within its border,<br>
This mystic, mist-protected home of the Psijic Order:<br>
Those counselors of kings, cautious, wise, and fair.<br>
<br>
Ten score years and thirty since the mighty Remans fell,<br>
Two brilliant students studied within the Psijics' fold.<br>
One's heart was light and warm, the other dark and cold.<br>
The madder latter, Mannimarco, whirled in a deathly dance,<br>
His soul in bones and worms, the way of the necromance.<br>
Entrapping and enslaving souls, he cast a wicked spell.<br>
<br>
The former, Galerion had magic bold and bright as day.<br>
He confronted Mannimarco beneath gray Ceporah Tower,<br>
Saying, 'Your wicked mysticism is no way to wield your power,<br>
Bringing horror to the spirit world, your studies must cease.'<br>
Mannimarco scoffed, hating well the ways of life and peace,<br>
And returned to his dark artistry; his paints, death and decay.<br>
<br>
O sacred isle Artaeum, how slow to perceive the threat,<br>
When the ghastly truth revealed, how weak the punishment.<br>
The ghoulish Mannimarco from the isle of the wise was sent<br>
To the mainland Dawn's Beauty, more death and souls to reap.<br>
'You have found a wolf, and sent the beast to flocks of sheep,'<br>
Galerion told his Masters, 'A terror on Tamriel has set.'<br>
<br>
'Speak no more of him,' the sage Cloaks of Gray did say.<br>
'Twas not the first time Galerion thought his Masters callous,<br>
Unconcerned for men and mer, aloof in their island palace.<br>
'Twas not the first time Galerion thought 'twas time to build<br>
A new Order to bring true magic to all, a mighty Mages Guild.<br>
But 'twas the time he left, at last, fair Artaeum's azure bay.<br>
<br>
O, but sung we have of Vanus Galerion many times before,<br>
How cast he off the Psijics' chains, bringing magic to the land.<br>
Throughout the years, he saw the touch of Mannimarco's hand,<br>
Through Tamriel's deserts, forests, towns, mountains, and seas.<br>
The dark grip stretching out, growing like some dread disease<br>
By his dark Necromancers, collecting cursed artifacts of yore.<br>
<br>
They brought to him these tools, mad wizards and witches,<br>
And brought blood-tainted herbs and oils to his cave of sin,<br>
Sweet Akaviri poison, dust from saints, sheafs of human skin,<br>
Toadstools, roots, and much more cluttered his alchemical shelf,<br>
Like a spider in his web, he sucked all their power into himself,<br>
Mannimarco, Worm King, world's first of the undying liches.<br>
<br>
Corruption on corruption, 'til the rot sunk to his very core,<br>
Though he kept the name Mannimarco, his body and his mind<br>
Were but a living, moving corpse as he left humanity behind.<br>
The blood in his veins became instead a poison acid stew.<br>
His power and his life increased as his fell collection grew .<br>
Mightiest were these artifacts, long cursed since days of yore.<br>
<br>
They say Galerion left the Guild, calling it 'a morass,'<br>
But untruth is a powerful stream, polluting the river of time.<br>
Galerion beheld Mannimarco's rise through powers sublime,<br>
To his mages and Lamp Knights, 'Before my last breath,<br>
Face I must the tyranny of worms, and kill at last, undeath.'<br>
He led them north to cursed lands, to a mountain pass.<br>
<br>
O those who survived the battle say its like was never seen.<br>
Armored with magicka, armed with ensorcelled sword and axe,<br>
Galerion cried, echoing, 'Worm King, surrender your artifacts,<br>
And their power to me, and you shall live as befits the dead.'<br>
A hollow laugh answered, 'You die first,' Mannimarco said.<br>
The mage army then clashed with the unholy force obscene.<br>
<br>
Imagine waves of fire and frost, and the mountain shivers,<br>
Picture lightning arching forth, crackling in a dragon's sigh.<br>
Like leaves, the battlemages fly to rain down from the sky,<br>
At the Necromancers' call, corpses burst from earth to fight,<br>
To be shattered into nothingness with a flood of holy light.<br>
A maelstrom of energy unleashed, blood cascades in rivers.<br>
<br>
Like a thunderburst in blue skies or a lion's sudden roar,<br>
Like sharp razors tearing over delicate embroidered lace,<br>
So at a touch did Galerion shake the mountain to its base.<br>
The deathly horde fell fatally, but heeding their dying cries<br>
From the depths, the thing they called Worm King did rise.<br>
Nirn itself did scream in the Mages' and Necromancers' war<br>
<br>
His eyes burning dark fire, he opened his toothless maw,<br>
Vomiting darkness with each exhalation of his breath,<br>
All sucking in the fetid air felt the icy touch of death.<br>
In the skies above the mountain, darkness overcame pale,<br>
Then Mannimarco Worm King felt his dismal powers fail:<br>
The artifacts of death pulled from his putrid skeletal claw.<br>
<br>
A thousand good and evil perished then, history confirms.<br>
Among, alas, Vanus Galerion, he who showed the way,<br>
It seemed once that Mannimarco had truly died that day.<br>
Scattered seemed the Necromancers, wicked, ghastly fools,<br>
Back to the Mages Guild, victors kept the accursed tools,<br>
Of him, living still in undeath, Mannimarco, King of Worms.<br>
<br>
Children, listen as the shadows cross your sleeping hutch,<br>
And the village sleeps away, streets emptied of the crowds,<br>
And the moons do balefully glare through the nightly clouds,<br>
And the graveyard's people rest, we hope, in eternal sleep,<br>
Listen and you'll hear the whispered tap of the footsteps creep,<br>
Then pray you'll never feel the Worm King's awful touch.
【訳文記述エリア】
