“The Best of Bergen, brought to you by yours truly, I Bergen, son of Tryggve, Lord and terror of Alfheim—”
Angela rips the keyboard away from Bergen.
“Okay, let’s tone things down, Bergen, or there will be no room for the explanation around your ego,” Angela says eager to cut the Nord Lord off.
“Due to the high demand, Bergen and I are putting together a collection of works right here on The Best of Bergen. Here, you will find links and excerpts that provide a well rounded “Bergen experience.”
“For your viewing pleasure,” Bergen says with a grin.
“Not viewing pictures! There are no pictures!”
“Why the hell would I add a picture?”
“Because it looks cool with the fire and the ice and lightning. Add Gruit!”
“This is supposed to be “the Best of Bergen.” Not the product of Bergen’s Inebriated Adventures.”
“Ooh! That’s catchy!”
Angela sighs. “Fine. For now, here is ‘Gruit the Dark One Comes.’ A Bergen exclusive poem. This will take me a few days to put together, but for now… Just give me time We’re working on it.
Oh, Gruit, the Dark One Comes
By Bergen son of Tryggve
“There, within the shadowed brink,
The Dark One comes with lavished drink,
For ne’er will a maid there be,
As sweet as my Sweet Gruit, my drink.
Beyond the brink, she comes with me,
My bed that night I’ll share with she,
No deeds were e’er as great as she,
Save for my sword, my tongue, and me.
Within the brink and finest hour,
When fullest body, I devoured,
There it was that I deflowered,
The fruits she bore within my bower.
Ne’er mind what Day-Gone thinks,
Nor what I lay beyond the brink,
For when I lay me down to sleep,
My coupled lass, My Gruit will sing.
Although my sword may lose its sheen,
Although sweet Gruit, she may dream,
Of sharper swords, of hops, and things,
To me my Gruit, will always be,
My first, my dearest Gruit, my sweet.”
This is an excerpt from Lorlenalin’s Lies (Book #2 of Tales of the Drui). If you’d like to read more about Bergen, check out Dolor and Shadow (Book #1 of Tales of the Drui) now available.
“My book. My website. My fictional character who I can kill on page two if I want,” says the author. “It’s going in. Buy my book.”
“You did not just litter my profound page with your shameless advertizing!” Bergen says.
“Oh,” Angela grins. “But I did.”