The Shadow of Tsabrak: Difference between revisions

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(Created page with "{{Creative-work | title = The Shadow of Tsabrak | author = Tsabrak (Prime) | author-displayed = Tsabrak_(Prime) | type = poetry | genre = Epic tale | status = Completed }} <poem> Beneath the moons where shadows burn, A voice of ash took shape in flame, Through veils of night, he would return, To carve the dark with whispered name. The runes obeyed his secret art, They bent like reeds before his will, Yet deeper still, within his heart, An oath unspoken...")
 
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{{Creative-work
{{Creative-work
| title = The Shadow of Tsabrak
| title = The Shadow of Tsabrak
| author = Tsabrak (Prime)
| author = Tsabrak (prime)
| author-displayed = [[Tsabrak_(Prime)]]
| author-displayed = [[Tsabrak (prime)]]
| type = poetry
| type = poetry
| genre = Epic tale
| genre = Epic tale
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== Related Links ==
== Related Links ==
* [[Tsabrak_(Prime)]]
* [[Tsabrak (prime)]]

Revision as of 14:32, 25 August 2025

This is a creative work set in the world of Elanthia, attributed to its original author(s). It does not necessarily represent the official lore of GemStone IV.

Title: The Shadow of Tsabrak

Author: Tsabrak (prime)

Beneath the moons where shadows burn,
 A voice of ash took shape in flame,
 Through veils of night, he would return,
 To carve the dark with whispered name.

The runes obeyed his secret art,
 They bent like reeds before his will,
 Yet deeper still, within his heart,
 An oath unspoken lingered still.

He walked where lesser dreamers drowned,
 Through cairns of gods and graves of men,
 And every echo that he found
 He bound in chains of ink and pen.

The lightning feared his woven hand,
 The sea grew mute beneath his eyes,
 And even death, at his command,
 Would halt before its destined rise.

For some call him the Serpent’s heir,
 And some, the Keeper of the Glass,
 Yet all who faced his baleful stare
 Felt time itself refuse to pass.

Not demon, god, nor mortal born,
 But breaker of the hidden Gate,
 He sowed his wrath in oath and thorn,
 And made the stars remember fate.

So sing his name, though low and hushed,
 Lest silence turn the tongue to stone—
 For where the blackened roses crushed,
 Tsabrak still claims the night his own.

Related Links