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Villians Series

The Villians Series explores the corrupted origins of the malevolent minions of Takhisis, Queen of Darkness.

Other information about Villians Series

Series Summary

Reviews

Quotes

Song Title

Location

Villians Volume 1 --- page 149, 157
Villians Volume 1 --- page 30
Villians Volume 1 --- page 189
Villians Volume 1 --- page 276-286
Villians Volume 4 --- page 119
Villians Volume 4 --- page 163
Villians Volume 5 --- page 35
Villians Volume 6 --- page 37
Villians Volume 6 --- page 51
Villians Volume 6 --- page 114
Black NotesBlack Notes
 

How Quiet is the Midnight Lord Soth's Song

 

Set aside the buried light
Of candle, torch, and rotting wood,
And listen to the turn of night
Caught in your rising blood.

How quiet is the midnight, love,
How warm the winds where the ravens fly,
Where all the changing moonlight, love,
Pales in your fading eye.

 

 

How loud your heart is calling, love,
How close the darkness at your breast,
How hectic are the rivers, love,
Drawn through your dying wrist.

And love, what heat your frail skin hides,
As pure as salt, as sweet as death,
And in the dark the red moon rides
The foxfire of your breath.

 

Binding and Alliance Chant

 

Son to son and truce to truth,
Peace for blood and youth for youth,
In high passages of stone
The heart returns to claim its own.

Let the words pass overhead,
Heard by the memorious dead,
Confirming what hearts have begun,
Truce for truth and son for son.

 

Song of the Mead Hall

Say to me, soldiers, soul-mated in battle,
stones and mountain, sea and river,
before whom the fire has broke, is breaking,
will break in the final hours of fire.

Say to me, soldiers, the afternoon's story
of what came to pass in the country of ogres,
to honor the Nine in the Regions of Night,
a dirge for the Lady dwelling in darkness,
a song for Takhisis, a song for the queen....

 

Lights of Paladine

By the lights of Paladine,
And Solinari's silver glow,
Light above to light below;
Let candle, torch, and lantern shine,
By the lights of Paladine.

In Gi1ean's red and balanced light,
Let light before match light behind,
And Lunitari charge the night
With shadows human and confined.
Let eyes define the edge of sight
In Gilean's red and balanced light.

Back into Nuitari's gloom,
Let all rough magic now depart.
Let centuries of night entomb
The dark maneuverings of the heart.
Let darkest magic flee, consumed
By Nuitari's ravenous gloom.

 

 

 

The light in the eastern skies
Is still and always morning,
It alters the renewing air
Into belief and yearning.

Even the night must fail,
For light sleeps in the eyes
And dark becomes dark on dark
Until the darkness dies.

Soon the eye resolves
Complexities of night
Into stillness, where the heart
Falls into fabled light.

And larks rise up like angels,
Like angels larks ascend
From sunlit grass as bright as gems
To where all darkness ends.


 

Old Seeker Hymn


We are the Seekers.
We seek the New Gods.
We give our souls to the true gods,
Who will not abandon us.

 

Seeker Hymn

We greet the day
In praise of the New Gods.
We labor in their honor.
We praise the new day.
All praise, all praise
The glory of the New Gods.


 

Taywin's Poem

The knight amount swept on his horse
through bracken field and brawny heath
and drew his sword of N'er-do-well
to face each danger in its teeth.

He vanquished dark and dreadful lords
and proved his will to fight and fight
and won the hearts of all around
with his fine and lordly might.

 

And so the people of the land
did seek him out to cure their woes
to battle dark and dreadful lords
and aid them in defeating foes.

And so the great and powerful knight
did seek the great and holy quest
to find the faith and fairest flower
and put himself to holy tests.

 

Song of Huma

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Out of the village, out of the thatched and clutching shires,
Out of the grave and furrow, furrow and grave,
where his sword first tried
The last cruel dances of childhood, and awoke to the shires
Forever retreating, his greatness a marshfire,
The banked flight of the Kingfisher always above him,
Now Huma walked upon Roses,
In the level Light of the Rose.
And troubled by Dragons, he turned to the end of the land,
To the fringe of all sense and senses,
To the wilderness, where Paladine bade him to turn,
And there in the loud tunnel of knives
He grew in unblemished violence, in yearning,
Stunned into himself by a deafening gauntlet of voices.

It was there and then that the white Stag found him,
At the end of a journey planned from the shores of Creation,
And all the time staggered at the forest edge
Where Huma, haunted and starving,
Drew his bow, thanking the gods for their bounty and keeping,
Then saw, in the ranged wood,
In the first silence, the dazed hearts symbol,
The rack of antlers resplendent.
He lowered the bow and the world resumed.
Then Huma followed the Stag, its tangle of antlers receding
As a memory of young light, as the talons of birds ascending.
The Mountains crouched before them. Nothing would change now,
The three moons stopped in the sky,
And the long night tumbled into shadows.

It was morning when they reached the grove,
The lap of the mountain, where the Stag departed,
Nor did Huma follow, knowing the end of this journey
Was nothing but green and the promise of green that endured
In the eyes of the woman before him.
And holy the days he drew near her, holy the air
That carried his words of endearment, his forgotten songs,
And the rapt moons knelt on the Great Mountain.
Still, she eluded him, bright and retreating as marshfire,
Nameless and lovely, more lovely because she was nameless,
As they learned that the world, the dazzling shelves of the air,
The wilderness itself
Were plain and diminished things to the hearts thicket.
At the end of the days, she told him her secret.

For she was not of woman, nor was she mortal,
But the daughter and heiress from a line of Dragons.
For Huma the sky turned indifferent, cluttered by moons,
The brief life of the grass mocked him, mocked his fathers,
And the thorned light bristled on the gliding Mountain.
But nameless she tendered a hope not in her keeping,
That Paladine only might answer, that through his enduring wisdom
She might step from forever, and there in her silver arms
The promise of the grove might arise and flourish.
For that wisdom Huma prayed, and the Stag returned,
And east, through the desolate fields, through ash,
Through cinders and blood, the harvest of dragons,
Traveled Huma, cradled by dreams of the Silver Dragon,
The Stag perpetual, a signal before him.

At last the eventual harbor, a temple so far to the east
That it lay where the east was ending.
There Paladine appeared
In a pool of stars and glory, announcing
That of all choices, one most terrible had fallen to Huma.
For Paladine knew that the heart is a nest of yearnings,
That can travel forever toward light, becoming
What we can never be.
For the bride of Huma could step into the devouring sun,
Together they would return to the thatched shires
And leave behind the secret of the Lance, the world
Unpeopled in darkness, wed to the dragons.
Or Huma could take on the Dragonlance, cleansing all of Krynn
Of death and invasion, of the green paths of his love.

 

 

The hardest of choices, and Huma remembered
How the Wilderness cloistered and baptized his first thoughts
Beneath the sheltering sun, and now
As the black moon wheeled and pivoted, drawing the air
And the substance from Krynn, from the things of Krynn,
From the grove, from the Mountain, from the abondoned shires,
He would sleep, he would send it al1 away,
For the choosing was all of the pain, and the choices
Were heat on the hand when the arm has been severed.
But she came to him, weeping and luminous,
In a landscape of dreams, where he saw
The world collapse and renew on the glint of the Lance.
In her farewell lay collapse and renewal.
Through his doomed veins the horizon burst.

He took up the Dragonlance, he took up the story,
The pale heat rushed through his rising arm
And the sun and the three moons, waiting for wonders,
Hung in the sky together.
To the West Huma rode, to the High C1erist"s Tower
On the back of the Silver Dragon,
And the path of their flight crossed over a desolate country
Where the dead walked only, mouthing the names of dragons.
And the men in the Tower, surrounded and riddled by dragons,
By the cries of the dying, the roar in the ravenous air,
Awaited the unspeakable silence,
Awaited far worse, in fear that the crash of the senses
Would end in a moment of nothing
Where the mind lies down with its losses and darkness.

But the winding of Huma's horn in the distance
Danced on the battlements. All of Solamnia lifted
Its face to the eastern sky, and the dragons
Wheeled to the highest air, believing
Some terrible change had come.
From out of their tumult of wings, out of the chaos of dragons,
Out of the heart of nothing, the Mother of Night,
Aswirl in a blankness of colors,
Swooped to the East, into the stare of the sun
And the sky collapsed into silver and blankness.
On the ground Huma lay, at his side a woman,
Her silver skin broken, the promise of green
Released from the gifts of her eyes. She wispered her name
As the Queen of Darkness banked in the sky above Huma.

She descended, the Mother of Night,
And from the loft of her battlements, men saw shadows
Boil on the colorless dive of her wings;
A hovel of thatch and rushes, the heart of a Wilderness,
A lost silver light spattered in terrible crimson,
And then from the center of shadows
Came a depth in which darkness itself was aglimmer,
Denying all air, all light, all shadows.
And thrusting his lance into emptiness,
Huma fell to the sweetness of death, into abiding sunlight.
Through the Lance, through the dear might and brotherhood
Of those who must walk to the end of the breath and the senses,
He banished the dragons back to the core of nothing,
And the long lands blossomed in balance and music.

Stunned in new freedom, stunned by the brightness and colors,
By the harped blessing of the holy winds,
The Knights carried Huma, they carried the Dragonlance
To the grove in the lap of the Mountain.
Uhen they returned to the grove in pilgrimage, in homage,
The Lance, the armor, the Dragonbane himself
Had vanished to the day's eye.
But the night of the full moons red and silver
Shines down on the hills, on the forms of a man and a woman Shimmering steel and silver, silver and steel,
Above the village, over the thatched and nurturing shires.

 

Song of Passing

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The hammer of Istar, the anvil of armies
Failed in the forge of Fordus's desert,
Failed on the plains when the sun passed over,
And the smoke rose up from a smithy of blood
While lost in the city the women lament,
Ash their companion,
Fire is their father
And the long war falls
As the ravens gather.

Aeleth of Ergoth, harper of arrows,
Yours the first music the army remembers,
The arrow a bolt to the battled thunder,
The string of the bow a song for Ilenus
Spearman of Istar struck in the vanguard;

 

 

The towers of Istar
Mourn through the night,
Bolt and harp
And the arrow's flight.

Rann of Balifor, Sword of the Bandits,
Rock of the army at Istar's coming,
The scar on your shoulder a glyph of the moon
As it shines on the dead in the damaged fields
As the night passes over the nation of Istar:
The long spear remembers
The assembled flight
The lodge of the arm
In returning moonlight.

 

Larken's Song

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The dark man in the desert
The dark man on the plain
The dark man in the gap of the sky
Is no dark man.

His home is not in moonlight
His home is not in sun
The dark man on the grassy hill
Is no dark man.

0 his arms are stone and water
0 his blood is stone and sand
The dark man in the circled camp
Is no dark man.

 
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