Fragments of the Epic of Isgramus

Editor’s preface: What follows are the fragments that remain of the Epic of Isgramus, composed by a certain Maronus in honour of (and probably commissioned by) Empress Kintyra I. From what I can gather the epic was a retelling of the life and deeds of Ysgramor with the clear intent to link him with the Septim Dinasty and the Third Empire, in an effort to legitimize ideologically the Empire. Although the author may have used ancient sources to compose his tale, it clearly contains a great deal of fictionalization and “imperialization”. The reception of the poem was overwhelmingly negative, being described as “bloated and pompous” as well as “inconsistently composed and paced” and even considered “the worst poem in Imperial literature” by later scholars. Probably the poem was eventually sequestered by the Imperial Throne in order to save face, but here are reproduced some fragments that were cited or copied into other works.

Edited by Marcienne Blosh. Published by University of Gwylim Press. Do not copy this book by hand, press or magical means.

Book I

Sing me Dibella about the grand weapon-man, saviour of our race.

Tell us about his axe, his valiant men, our origin.

Do so slowly and gravely, in stately and powerful versed pace

for such deeds and greatness deserve the best of the writing.

Send, good godess, to her Highness these words, made to please her and amuse.

Let the whole world in awe listen to these words no writer can ever accuse.

[…]

Book IV

An elven feast in presence of men. This would be never seen again.

For arch-sage Selgriath’s eldest daughter, going by Ledois,

set her languid eyes on he who in Sarthal has his great reign.

When the grand ball was underway, she said to him in a soft voice:

“Meet me at midnight on garden’s shed, let us there discuss and rejoice”.

All night they talked state affairs and indulged in trivial games.

[…]

What a grand friendship they formed. Nothing ever more happy.

But Ledois sook more of it. One day she brought the warrior

into her abode and said in suggestive tone: “why of you so many?”.

But honoured Isgramus said: “Friend, never would I want you to (w/b)ed, E.N.: There is dispute if this line says “wed” or “bed”.

for my mission, which is holy, is to man preserve from you: the mer.”

[…]

And Ledois, heartbroken, sung: “O Gods! Why you command him

to tend puny mankind? Auri-el, our father eternal,

I wish you would turn men to cinder and fill their misfortune’s brim.

so that my Isgramus nothing would he have but his dearest girl.

And as you, Father of mine, will not do such a thing, let me be at ease”.

And said this, one more ghost plagued the narrow northern sea.

[…]

Sleeping was Isgramus when in dreams saw her dead, remembered, young wife

She was standing on a burning city, the blue skies turned to pitch black.

In grave and prophetic tone she said: “Go, beloved, sail yourself back!

For the forces of the mer are arriving now. Take our sons, don’t fight!”

Woke up our hero with aghast, and taking his sons grabbed a boat and sailed.

Witnessing afar the fires of old Sarthal, he uttered a threat not veiled:

“I shall avenge this crime. I will enact justice on both man and mer.”

[…]

Book VI

While the Champion roamed around Atmora an old danger emerged.

How can one gather companions when Herma-Mora is around them?

To his sons bring protection and to save himself, he went afar,

to an old dragon shrine where lived old priest Miraadinok, a wise man.

He said: “Protection could be brought on you if your answer is not subpar,

what is the sacred object held in this moment in my old hand?”

Ingol said ”It is a spoon, wise man”. Ilgas said “It is a spoon, o great”.

But the Champion roared “one sees a mere fork.” The old priest rose and proclaimed:

“Only those who is their destiny to tamper with Aetherius

may see the holes in the fork. I will protect your sons. You go.”

And in that way, the Champion entered dead’s realm: Aetherius the fabled.

[…]

Isgramus asked to dead Aaklovaas: “Who in the distance are those souls?”

Responded: “they are the Worldly God and the Ninth Divine, your sons."

And the Champion wept for the future was so bright and assured.

“Do not weep” cried his dead guide “your daughter may see you as feeling weak”

Isgramus cried “I will do as I well damn please” in prideful tears.

[…]

Book XII

Bloody Vuthrad was in swing, when Selgriath’s torn shield fell into said ditch.

Isgramus looked at his limbless opponent and proclaimed with pride:

“Do you here surrender, accepting my might?” Was responded: “Yes I abide”

Shouted a Companion: “Murder that!” But the wise hero silenced him:

“We are not barbarians like the mer. Take him to court, as law duly says.

Get it known, elves, that only the unruly among you

have our men killed, for is duty of ours to bring you the legal ways.”

At that moment all the elves in this our Nirn lowered their gaze.

[…]

Book XIII

Sat the last stone of the Palace of Kings, said blessed Isgramus to them:

“Founded is this Windhelm, where we will live, but always remember well

This is where my sons and daughters will dwell” Isgramus’ finger showed the way

pointing the old Tower of Gold-White where his descendants will ever stay

And create the era in which you, citizen, enjoy this mine fine tale.