Thank you to all who participated in our “To Win or Not to Win” contest! We were very captivated by all the great soliloquies that were submitted and it was most difficult to choose only five winners out of all these masterpieces! But without further ado, let us introduce our winners and their winning soliloquies!
Katheryn of Mari:
To save or not to save, that is the question
For though the Fomors did bask them in fire
The Tuatha de Dananns ride on with good fortune.
In Arms against the swarm, to bitter stone I shall become
And by opposing Fomors, I protect my beloved humans.
Mag Tuireadh: that dreadful first war
To which I sacrificed freedom
Only to fall in Cichol’s hands not long after.
Me, the Goddess of War, a prisoner! Ha!
But even in the darkness, I held fast
For I have found a race who hails from another world.
What dreams may come indeed
To those Milletians who hold fate in their hands
Was it not just that a being in search of fantasy,
Should save me and slay Glas Ghaibhleann?
Surely Tir Na Nog, The Noble Erinn Land, is not lost
When there are such beings who fight for truth.
Perhaps it was meant to be that I should meet a Milletian,
That I should be rescued by a human filled with such imagination.
For in this world brimming with the essence of life,
The Hero turned Dark Lord,
The young archeress who was reborn,
The priestess who was once a Fomor,
The star crossed lovers of Elves and Giants,
The Demigod who had lost his way,
The Alchemist who died to save a friend,
And even in a play of tragic death,
Who better to tell me if paradise can be saved
Than one who has learned and seen
Both Happiness and Woe?
Nellas of Ruairi:
To act, or not to act—that is the question:
To succumb to a name because it has been given
A title that withers flowers and darkens the brightest skies
War, vengeance; two things that bring no obvious reward
Yet this has been bestowed upon me
And to reject that which I was meant for
No, to fall short of it
To be unable to live up to the one expectation given
But to be cruel and fierce, for no rhyme or reason
To take serene colour out of the world
And to replace it with dreary grays, raging reds, and gloomy blues
This, all to be what is expected
Why expected? Do I have no right to oppose my name?
Think it of a surprise, they should
Be merry for it, they should
Is it so wrong that Lady Irony posses me in this way?
What of a born prince, who cannot lead?
Be he forced into an act that defies him?
Or perhaps he leads by following
Is this possible? Or might my comparison be invalid?
Defying a title, defying yourself
Is one really worse than the other?
With the array of names, any could have been chosen
And if it was? Would I still be the same?
If my name did not disregard me, would much be different?
Ah, now the real question rises
My title could be any, but it is not
This does not mean I could be any
I am who I should always have been
And it is what it always should have
Be it destined this way, so should change occur?
It is understandable, aye, quite an honorable decision!
Sparky328 of Mari:
To bless or not to bless, that it the question
Whether ‘tis nobler to ignore the pleas
Of these helpless human beings
Or to give them the help they need
And, by my powers, to bless them to win, to succeed
No more—by winning they are done
With the foolish dungeons of the mortal men
Why must they fight within them?
Why do they want to win, to succeed?
To win, perchance to gain. Ay, there’s the goal
For upon completing the dungeon they suffer in
Gold and riches abound in the final room
And treasures are theirs. There’s the answer
That makes sense of this so tiring question
For who would bear the cuts and bruises of beasts
The strikes of snakes, the fangs of jackals
The pain of a spider’s bite, the kobold’s knife
The werewolf’s claws, and the teeth
The human’s cost for unworthy quests
When they themselves approach the beasts
With an unsheathed blade? Who would willingly go
To fight and die during their tired life
By the dreadful something in the dungeon?
The wild dungeon from what I’ve heard
No traveler returns, no warrior reappears
And deprives me of my puppets and followers
Whose spirits fly to places others know not of?
Thus doth make cowards of my men
And thus the usual anger of my heart
Is burned towards humans whom I look over
And confuses me of their wanting to die
With their thoughts of fighting turning to life
And lose the ambition that once fueled them—how confusing!
Oh, piteous humans! Children, in all of your hearts
Be my words remembered.
Euphoria of Mari:
To be saved, or not to be saved- that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The guilt of betraying the hopes of the Erinnians
Or to ask for the help of a milletian
And, take arms against Cichol and the sea of fomors
But by opposing them, I end them, and their cookies
To eat, to eat, no more- and by release from this prison
The cakes and pies and delicious sweets
That I have been served here- 'tis a difficult
Choice to make. To eat, to eat
To EAT, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub
For Cichol's rank 1 cooking skills put me in a deep dream every time
And I dream of all the pie and cookies to come.
When I have shuffled off this desire for pie and cookies
Cichol does not pause to bribe me with cake. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For his cake bears whipped cream
But even then, I must stop Cichol
But who would fardel a bear?
To devour mana-herbs under a weary life,
But that dread of Cichol taking over Erinn,
Maybe from the soul stream a traveller may appear
But the cake still puzzles my will,
And makes me bear the ill thoughts I have
Of choosing the cake over the Erinnians
Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all.
But my choice is clear, the cake is a lie!
With this regard I must call upon a milletian.
Can you hear me...?
Ah.... The brave milletian!
So you can hear me....
This is a difficult request...
... come over to this world,
Tir Na Nog.
Josephsky of Ruairi:
To act or not to act: that is the question.
Whether 'tis wiser to silence them now; they who hold such power,
that by their hands they fell beasts, winged devils and gods alike
and live lives unending;
Or should I close my eyes, remain silent, and let them be?
Such promise they held when I visited their dreams,
a promise of power that blossomed into a beautiful and frightening thing.
They have oft come to my aid and rid this world of many a foul play.
But I have seen the darkness of power, how it frequently corrupts those gifted with it.
I have seen how often champions turn into villains all because of this two edged blade:
this blessing, this burden, this curse.
Perhaps the time now has come to end them as I did those from before:
the parthalonians, the fomors. They too once flourished by my side,
but look and them now! Trying at every turn to to thwart my visions of this world.
No, I will not stand for it!
Do these milletians have a place here on Errin?
Do they have a place in my paradise?
Or is it time for the final curtain to fall on their race?
To act or not to act: that is the question.
A big congratulations to all the winners!