The Thrill of the Fall Prose in Erillor | World Anvil
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The Thrill of the Fall

Climbing Reaching Heaving Sweating Plateau Relief, resting, seeking, finding, next mountain top. Standing, I open my wings, checking each stitch and seam. Deep breath Running, leaping Falling The wind rushes past my face, exhilarating I raise my arms against the rush of air. Rending I soar Gliding over the lesser peaks beneath me I fly Arms outstretched, I swoop and meet the cold rock face before me. Climbing

Written by the fabled Jared Clirol, this spoken poem was lost for many generations until it was rediscovered by one of his descendents. Born into a family of Windrunners, the young dwarf never seemed to embrace the lifestyle of his relatives as his siblings had done, and was often the slowest messenger in the group. It was only after his mother discovered the scraps of paper in his satchel that his secret was revealed. Jared would frequently take breaks in his travels to write poetry or prose after being inspired by his surroundings, which he then compiled in small notebooks during his downtime. Indeed, it transpired that he had become one of the fastest runners in the history of the guild in order to compensate for his lengthy periods spent writing.   Unfortunately, rather than encouraging this creative outlet, Jared's mother forbade him from ever spending time writing poetry on a run, and confiscated many of works and locked them in an old storage container. Jared's grief was inconsolable. From that moment on he appeared hollow and pale, and while his first few runs were completed in record time, his physical condition slowly deteriorated. Less than 3 months later, he failed to return from a routine run across the central mountains. A search was conducted, and his body was found, frail and broken at the base of the Ox-Horn mountains.   Many years later, a descendent of the Clirol clan, now a family of smiths and grocers, discovered the locked box and its valuable contents. Presenting them to the guild of Bards and Writers in Ka'z, they were extoled for their prose and emotion, and immortalised within the halls of the Greats and Epics.


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