on natural defenses

Our redoubts are lofty, our tunnels are deep, we don't threaten lightly or snore in our sleep. Winds from the Arctic pole make the skin chill, often they sicken and sometimes they kill. Our children get lessons, they learn how to fight, they know deprivation, they see by star-light. We learn them in history, tactics, and art, the path of the warrior they take from the start. Now on to our landscapes, the ones that impede, the progress of burdened beast and mounted steed. Deep are the gullies and sharp are the crags, that slow down invaders and cause them to lag. Hampered by driving rains and sudden squalls, our enemies falter, our foes quickly fall. Our Dunes swallow parties, our Swamps and Bluffs too, our insects and vermin still carry the flu. To this add the labyrinths underneath Grig, the ones that have taken us lifetimes to dig, then throw in the weather and flora and such, and understand why no one dares bothers us much. You're welcome if you mean no innocents harm, we kick out imperialists who spin yarns. So long as you're honest, though, come as you are, to glorious, peace-loving Grigovia.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

valiant lovely Nuuzstathena

Gaze north on a clear night from eastern Nuuzsh Gar, and look for the light that floats but is not star. With keen eyes you'll glimpse it (rejoice! it's good luck) the maiden picks wisely – not any old schmuck. Have done then with seeking, cast no further glance: the goddess is quick to lash out with her lance. She doesn't mind peeking but hates those who stare, at her shining breastplate and resplendent hair. The winds are her vessel, in dunes she resides, she calls forth the new moon, comfort she provides. She curses the greedy, blesses those who share, has made great kings cower with her flashing glare. Her wards are the artists and weavers and they, who charge into battle their foes there to slay. Look not at her Gorgon's head that Hercule won, or you'll turn to marble-stone and weight a ton. Her trusty companion is burrowing owl, who rides the high thermals always on the prowl. She watches us mostly, touches here and there, sometimes she is brutal always she is fair. To praise her be crafty and industrious, avoid wasteful shortcuts and don't make much fuss. Her feast-day is one week past Mid-Winter's night – spend time with friends, eat well, right wrongs, light a light. She welcomes all comes, from near and from far, fair goddess, wise patroness: Nuuzstathena!

© americanifesto / 場黑麥