Art an' stuff.
I'm not very pleased with the 'Time and I have quarreled...' picture. So I tried something else: a mock propaganda poster for the Raven King's faery host.
It's based on this - (which is a prime example of why I shouldn't be allowed to read books of old Scottish ballads.)
The King’s Defense of Endmost.
When captaines couragious, the King’s shining Host,
Did ride to the siege of the citty Endmost,
They mustred their souldiers to march at swift pace:
And the foremost in battle was Keziah Agrace.
Shee clothed herselfe from the top to the toe
In crimson the brightest, most seemelye to showe.
Loude cryed out her souldiers, and full they did say,
“Soe well thou becomest this gallant array!”
Then a faire shirt of male with rings interlace’d,
Wore the brave bonny lass Keziah Agrace.
A helmett of proof shee strait did provide,
A sword named Malaal shee girt by her side,
On her hand a goodly faire gauntlett and brace;
Oh, a brave bonny lass was Keziah Agrace.
Shee cheared her souldiers, that foughten for life,
With ancyent and standard, with drum and with fife,
"My souldiers," shee saith, "soe valiant and bold,
Nowe followe your captaine, whom you doe beholde;
First foremost in battel myselfe will I place!"
There was none ever like Keziah Agrace.
Shee led upp her souldiers in battaile array,
'Gainst three times theyr number by breake of the daye;
Shee laid death about her with blade and with mace
So fierce and determined Keziah Agrace.
Her looks they were proud her eyes dark helibore
Her black hair was elf-lock’d with blood and with gore
When brave Davis Wolfsblood was slaine in her sight,
Who was her true lover, her joy, and delight,
Because he was slaine with bloody disgrace,
Then vow’d to revenge him Keziah Agrace.
Then tooke shee her sword and her targe in her hand,
And mounting the walls all undaunted did stand,
There daring her foes to come thrice or come ace:
O what a brave captaine was Keziah Agrace!
Being falselye betrayed for lucre of hyre,
At length she was forced to make a retyre;
Her foes they besett her on everye side,
As thinking close siege shee cold never abide;
To beate down the walles and stones to debase:
But stoutlye deffyd them did Keziah Agrace.
"Saye, Raven King’s captaine, what woldest thou give
To ransome thy selfe, which else must not live?”
The enemy trembled to behold her dread face
Beautific in battle was Keziah Agrace!
“Oh fair mayd you still fight with might and with main
To slaughter such valor shall put us to shame!
Thy harte and thy weapons soe well do agree,
Come yield thy selfe quicklye, or slaine thou must bee."
“My sword at your feet? Death eyd rather embrace!”
Smiled sweetlye with venom Keziah Agrace.
“My lord hath heard tales of your great bravery
Hee will pardon your sins if his mistress you’ll bee.
Speake now and speake bold: what thinke ye of his case?
Will your heart bow to him, Keziah Agrace?
But this virtuous mayden despised them all,
"Ile nere sell my honour for purple nor pall:
A mayden of Agrace, sir, never will bee
The whore of a monarcke," so hottly quoth shee.
Then all her foes with shadow did shee efface
Hunger-dark commanding Keziah Agrace.
Obtenebre scour’d the fell battlefield bare
Ave Victor Corvus! horns and banners declare.
Called Scourge of His Enemies: finest in grace,
The ebon-haired mayden Keziah Agrace.
It's based on this - (which is a prime example of why I shouldn't be allowed to read books of old Scottish ballads.)
The King’s Defense of Endmost.
When captaines couragious, the King’s shining Host,
Did ride to the siege of the citty Endmost,
They mustred their souldiers to march at swift pace:
And the foremost in battle was Keziah Agrace.
Shee clothed herselfe from the top to the toe
In crimson the brightest, most seemelye to showe.
Loude cryed out her souldiers, and full they did say,
“Soe well thou becomest this gallant array!”
Then a faire shirt of male with rings interlace’d,
Wore the brave bonny lass Keziah Agrace.
A helmett of proof shee strait did provide,
A sword named Malaal shee girt by her side,
On her hand a goodly faire gauntlett and brace;
Oh, a brave bonny lass was Keziah Agrace.
Shee cheared her souldiers, that foughten for life,
With ancyent and standard, with drum and with fife,
"My souldiers," shee saith, "soe valiant and bold,
Nowe followe your captaine, whom you doe beholde;
First foremost in battel myselfe will I place!"
There was none ever like Keziah Agrace.
Shee led upp her souldiers in battaile array,
'Gainst three times theyr number by breake of the daye;
Shee laid death about her with blade and with mace
So fierce and determined Keziah Agrace.
Her looks they were proud her eyes dark helibore
Her black hair was elf-lock’d with blood and with gore
When brave Davis Wolfsblood was slaine in her sight,
Who was her true lover, her joy, and delight,
Because he was slaine with bloody disgrace,
Then vow’d to revenge him Keziah Agrace.
Then tooke shee her sword and her targe in her hand,
And mounting the walls all undaunted did stand,
There daring her foes to come thrice or come ace:
O what a brave captaine was Keziah Agrace!
Being falselye betrayed for lucre of hyre,
At length she was forced to make a retyre;
Her foes they besett her on everye side,
As thinking close siege shee cold never abide;
To beate down the walles and stones to debase:
But stoutlye deffyd them did Keziah Agrace.
"Saye, Raven King’s captaine, what woldest thou give
To ransome thy selfe, which else must not live?”
The enemy trembled to behold her dread face
Beautific in battle was Keziah Agrace!
“Oh fair mayd you still fight with might and with main
To slaughter such valor shall put us to shame!
Thy harte and thy weapons soe well do agree,
Come yield thy selfe quicklye, or slaine thou must bee."
“My sword at your feet? Death eyd rather embrace!”
Smiled sweetlye with venom Keziah Agrace.
“My lord hath heard tales of your great bravery
Hee will pardon your sins if his mistress you’ll bee.
Speake now and speake bold: what thinke ye of his case?
Will your heart bow to him, Keziah Agrace?
But this virtuous mayden despised them all,
"Ile nere sell my honour for purple nor pall:
A mayden of Agrace, sir, never will bee
The whore of a monarcke," so hottly quoth shee.
Then all her foes with shadow did shee efface
Hunger-dark commanding Keziah Agrace.
Obtenebre scour’d the fell battlefield bare
Ave Victor Corvus! horns and banners declare.
Called Scourge of His Enemies: finest in grace,
The ebon-haired mayden Keziah Agrace.