A knight, he was learned
and read in books,
so that if he with his time
could begin nothing better,
he also wrote poetry.
That one could gladly hear,
there he set his eagerness to.
He was called Talarii
and he was from Pelagiad.
He wrote this story as poetry.
At the beginning, there was a Temple. Withing the temple was His Highness, Sir Vecci. His chivalry was unmatched, and his tongue unbarbed. He enjoyed nothing except the sound of his harp. He plucked his harp, tuning it daily to the songs of the birds. He sang;
Sir Vecci sings this, all may hear
Listen to this, the song of my dear
I know not her face, only her name
Aayet, Aayet, a face fit for a frame.
Sir Vecci was proud, his song playing loudly. Aayet did not hear him, as she was lost. Taken by giants, and held for a cost. Sir Vecci assembled a thousand plus two men, five hundred horses, and twenty one minstrels. They rode out of Morning, and headed to Nachis to save Vecci’s bride. Eight minutes passed dawn, they arrived.
Sir Vecci fells thee, the giants of Nachis!
One eye each, both blind as netches!
Aayet is free, as you both hit your knees!
Die in agony, burn on your graves!
Impressed by his lance, Aayet implored Vecci to spend an evening with her in Nachis. He agreed. Soon after, they left for Morning. Sir Vecci presented his lover to the Temple, and his council cheered. His father spat, spurning his bride;
You bring me a wench, son?
Her clothes are tatty, her laundry undone!
She can’t even count!
I bet she’s a lout.
Vecci was crestfallen. His father denied his marriage, and stripped him of his titles. He was no longer a knight, just a porter with armour. He hid his face, and wandered again. He went back to Nachis, and sealed himself in the tower.