Fantasy Poetry Post-Apocalypse RPGs

The Myth of Mithiel

In the dark beneath the stars
That swim in inky firmament
Where the grey elves' houses are,
Where e'er they've dwelt since sky was rent

Their fishers dredge from darkness deep
The things below, all pale as snow,
And in their tongues they sing to keep
The words they know, whate'er they meant

A dozen generations thence,
Though elven years and ears are long,
Did pass before the choking vents
Announced to all that aught was wrong.

There came a prophecy fulfilled
When Mithiel was newly born
Her collar bore the mark that killed
The folk they were, the world they mourn

But she was just a child then
And cold as greyling hearts can be,
No one could bear a child condemned
To drift alone on sunless sea

So Mithiel was raised for war
For war was coming, now or then,
And when she was a child no more,
The greylings took their counsel 'gain.

Her mother pleaded for her fate,
For Mithiel was bright and sharp,
And how she loved her home, and hate
Had not a foothold in her heart

But prophecy's a foolish thing
It burdens those who dare to tread
Where others dread, and seldom brings
A shred of aught to stay fate's thread

So Mithiel was sent away
And so she left her world behind,
Abandoning her very name
And cursed her birth beneath that sign

But Mithiel was trained to fight,
So she endured, and lived, and learned,
And came in time into the light
Where men do tread on world burned

She took their ways and made them hers,
And wove them with the greylings' arts,
And as her elf-made things grew sparse,
She patched them up with man-made parts.

And so was Mithiel reborn
Piece by piece, 'til kin were kith,
And name away like dust was worn,
And Mithiel became a Myth.

I wrote this in lieu of a traditional backstory for a character I made for a tabletop RPG, because the hardest thing about backstory is convincing people to read it.

Thank you to Yasen Stoilov for creating the art that inspired the character.