This poem was also written way back in the day, but it was written based on a campaign, as opposed to the other way around. It isn’t as good as the Breaking of the Pact, in my opinion, but it’s not horrible.
The Voyage of Meneldur
by Turin the Bard and Autolycus
The houses burned a fiery red;
The Watch raised forth alarms;
The villagers, they turned and fled
From force of orcish arms.
Meneldur held the streets till late,
A mighty elf was he,
A sailor on the seas of fate,
A staff of destiny.
“Back to the ship!” Meneldur boomed
As orcish might won through;
Elensefar the Fair was doomed
Despite Meneldur’s crew.
They left the port a burning waste
The palace doors ajar;
They swore that though they left in haste,
They’d save Elensefar.
A mighty oath they offered then
On sword and bow and spear:
Elensefar would be again
The home they held so dear.
Meneldur set out to recruit
An army to defeat
The orcs who’d come to burn and loot
And pillage every street.
The first to join was Black the Red
Who joined the worthy cause
To save the home and make orcs dead
(The home, but not its laws.)
They traveled over sea and land,
Defeating orcs and men;
They trained a host to fight on sand,
On hill and plain and fen.
But one green isle they landed on
Was different from the the rest;
Their task was still too far from done –
There lurked a mighty test.
For elves condemned Meneldur’s “theft”
Of craft from elves at war:
“Outcast!” they cried, “Our home you left
“We have aligned with orcs, no less,
To bring you to your doom!”
(Consid’ring not the lawlessness
Their act would thus assume.)
Meneldur to his vast dismay
Must slay both kin and orcs;
And having done, he sought to try
The path where danger lurked.
“Return we to Elensefar!”
The crew yelled out in cheer,
Disdaining orcs which tried to bar
Their path to home so near.
The ships made land, a host aboard,
The flame of war alight –
At first they won by craft of sword,
And courage in the fight.
But elves appeared, this much is known,
And men from Wesnoth-land,
To make Elensefar their own.
(Not what Meneldur planned!)
The weary host, a motley crew,
Meneldur’s heroes all,
Said, “Captain, we will follow you
Though half our number fall!”
They triumphed though the field seemed lost
After a battle grim,
But victory came at heavy cost
Of friendly life and limb.
Elensefar at last was free
From reign of foeman scum;
Meneldur’s host, their Lord was he
To make a nation one.
So now we end Meneldur’s tale,
Of riot, wrath and doom;
We leave him now to sip his ale
And tip-toe from the room.