The Ballad of St. Shtaerb

A popular tune throughout Pax, this ballad is referenced in so many popular culture tropes that it has become its own trope entirely.

Purpose

To record the folk song/poem in its original form.

Document Structure

Clauses

It is written in poetic verse using iambic pentameter and really fantastic imagery. Also, probably a pencil.

Caveats

Might have been a pen.

Publication Status

They are very prominent. You might be sitting on one.

Legal status

It is considered by many a myth, but the anthropologists know the real truth.

Historical Details

History

Written artistically and with great gravitas, the origins of this story have been the subject of much debate. Which blood hag did St. Shtaerb stand up to? When did this actually happen? Has anyone figured out who the fuck these 'bauble bearers' were? The only thing many people know for sure is that the story of St. Shtaerb is 100%, genuine calfskin leather true. Those people are all 100% wrong, it never happened.

Public Reaction

Kids want to grow up to be Shtaerb. Women want to be with Shtaerb. So do men.

Legacy

It is said that a monastic order was created around St. Shtaerb.

Term

In excess of perpetuity.

Read the Document

The Ballad of St. Shtaerb

The Ballad of St Shtaerb

Author Unknown¹
Once when on a journey vast In days now long since gone to dust The Bauble Bearers of the past In need of shelter and of trust
Did happen on a roadside inn Of wattle, daub and timbers strong And there a light amidst the din Of peeptoads and of cricket song
The door swung open when they came The innkeep’s space a tidy one The Bauble Bearers’ nascent fame The Gossips of the Grapevine spun
“Hello dear friends, the weary way Has taken you to me this day And til the morning come what may I pray that you’ll enjoy your stay”

To bed, to bed, the Bearers went Fatigue had seeped into their bones For on their errand they’d been sent To seek the dragons’ magic stones
And for a time a silence reigned The innkeep’s broom the only sound They could not know their fate was stained For fiendish terrors did abound
A creak presaged the open door The innkeep’s eyes drawn to the dark Into his inn from Hellish lore A lurching shape came smiling stark
The innkeep knew for whom she’d come This crone enthralled to dragon queen The Bauble Bearers, deaf and dumb Within the grasp of sleep serene
“How now, you hag! I beckon thee!” He said, his broomstick held aloft “I fear I’ve no more vacancy You’ll find my welcome far from soft!”
The fiend wept rivulets of blood From comic strain upon her face She strode within while tracking mud Into the erstwhile spotless space
The voices raised, the Bearers woke And stumbled to the fray In time to hear what words were spoke On the innkeep’s final day
“See here, O crone, you meet your doom As long as Shtaerb his vigil stands The Bearers, not unlike this broom You’ll have to pry from my dead hands!”
A charge, a crack and then a snap The broken broom fell to the floor The fiend and Shtaerb both stumbled back From he dripped blood, from her ichor
The battle joined by Bearers bold Waged well into the morning light When from dawn’s gray to faded gold The heroes won and proved their might
The Bauble Bearers caught their breath Before despair caught in their throats For there lay Shtaerb as still as death Just cargo now for Stygian boats
And so all Martyrs meet their end A sacrifice upon a cause And canonized at Craysilt when The world was saved from Shayna’s claws
But legends speak that to this day Some Bauble Bearers yet draw breath And weep when thinking of their stay At Shtaerb’s the night before his death

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Type

Record, Historical

Medium

Paper

Myth

Shayna's Tantrum