by Caleb Shetland | twitter: @calebshetland
website: https://postmirabilis.artstation.com/
When Mike and Jerry first posted this poem all those years ago, that’s when the Eyrewood suddenly became a real place in my mind; I could see generations of frightened Eyrefolk passing this rhyme down in whispers, along with warnings not to use it except in direst need. This tapestry tetraptych might hang in the hall where they huddle by night, hoping their feeble firelight can keep the monsters at bay, like Hrothgar and his thanes waiting for Grendel. The loneliness of the last line seemed to resonate with the experience of those called to be Daughters, hence the ikon-like scene in the final panel.
