A druid sat in his favourite grove,
Amongst the green.
Working the wood,
He shaped himself a long staff,
A stave that he blessed,
With the most precious of all magicks.
The people who called for his service,
Knew him as Llwyd,
For he wore grey robes and prayed daily.
Using his walking stick,
He traipsed through the woods,
Wandering.
All was well until suddenly,
He came face to face with a ferocious bear.
Llwyd was unfazed,
He clutched his staff,
Spoke a mantra under his breath,
And transformed into a strong wolf.
And scared the bear away.
When he turned back into his human form,
The face of a wolf appeared upon the wood,
Carved by the magic he had used.
Llwyd continued on his way.
Using his walking stick,
He stomped into the local village,
Venturing.
All was well until suddenly,
He came face to face with a Roman soldier.
Llwyd was unfazed,
He clutched his staff,
Spoke a mantra under his breath,
And transformed into a feeble crone.
And gave the soldier, the cold shoulder.
When he turned back into his human form,
The face of a crone appeared upon the wood,
Carved by the magic he had used.
Llwyd continued on his way.
Using his walking stick,
He clambered up the mountain range,
Exploring.
All was well until suddenly,
He came face to face with a sheer drop.
Llwyd was unfazed,
He clutched his staff,
Spoke a mantra under his breath,
And transformed into a small child.
He crept and climbed,
And pulled himself into a small nook.
The face of a child appeared upon the wood,
Carved by the magic he had used.
Without warning,
Several Roman soldiers,
Appeared at the hole,
Suspicious,
Investigating,
For hiding druids.
They spotted Llwyd,
And hurried to find a way,
Into the cave,
To capture and arrest him.
Llwyd was unfazed,
He clutched his staff,
Spoke a mantra under his breath,
And transformed into a slithering eel,
Dropping into a pool of water,
Gathered in the cave.
The soldiers found a way in, Searched high and low, But could only find the stray eel. As they bent down, Peering into the water, Llwyd charged an electric shock, And stunned every last guard, Knocking them out cold. Once it was safe, He turned back into his human form, The head of an eel appeared upon the wood, Carved by the magic he had used. He left the cave, And disappeared off into another forest. Many years later, A band of travelling traders, Stumbled upon the remains of a body, Wrapped in a tatty grey cloth. Resting next to the remains, Was a long staff, With four clear carvings upon it, A wolf, A crone, A child, And an eel. The traders examined it closely, But the magick had long gone. |