In Waterdeep, down Ivory Street
Is a beckoning alley, tiled in blue
Every barkeep knows, this woesome place,
for it holds traps and dangers a few .
Those that go in, seldom come out
but those that come out are now wealthier.
But richer in experience or coin is the question,
for invariably them, that return are unhealthier.
Twistbeard created, that mad . . insane maze,
filled it with traps, and constructs galore,
To amuse himself and friends of the outcome
Those foolish enough, to enter the door.
If He still watches is a factor unknown,
A wager perhaps, placed on your failure,
or maybe one on how quick you die to a trap,
as you run away from his scaladur.....!
The dangers that lurk in the maze of Blue Alley,
are not for the faintheart or weak,
If you tread there be wary and quick
lest your future be short and bleak . . . .
wrote:
A Jingle for the Sewers (Performed in a sing-song style with a goblin mask on)
by Alora Tuffet-Hopper
Welcome to the sewers, you idiots
Welcome to the sewers, you fools
Roll out the golden carpet
Pillage this chest of lovely jewels
Yes, welcome to the sewers, you fools!
Come down into the darkness, it's lovely
Come down into the darkness, it's grand
Trust that we have puppies
And the buxomest wenches in the land
Yes, come down to the darkness, it's grand!
Goblins are your friend, child, just trust us.
Yes goblins are your friend, child. Come near!
We've lots of toys and goodies
And you have naught at all to fear!
Yes, goblins are your friends now, come near!
Ignore that rotting corpse now, young warrior!
Ignore that other carcass, too, brave knight!
You'll gain great fame and glory
All it takes is just a little fight!
Yes, just ignore the deaders, young knight!
Sister Desire, Sister Fate
by Sarenna Irithyl, the Siren
Hand to hand, these sisters two
They've claimed me as their own
The heat of one, the bite of one,
Have guided all I've known.
Our dance renewed, Desire leads,
And spins me round and round,
Unbalanced, falling, laughter calling,
'Reach and take what's found!'
Silent sister Fate steps in,
And moves the prize away
She scalds my skin, her sigil writ,
'You will wait another day.'
Life is a dance, I've heard it said
The Sister's Dance, I've known
But until I guide their hands in mine
My dance is not my own.
She wielded the Goblins of grodd
He laid down his specter and rod
She spread fire and filth across the land
He rode to battle sword in hand
Dragons of Purple and Red
Full of fire and fight
Neither took flight
Till both lay dead
The goblins they feared her flaming fury
To their deaths they scrambled in a hurry
The men of Cormyr they did hear the call of their king
To battle they marched and their best they did bring
Dragons of Purple and Red
Full of fire and fight
Neither took flight
Till both lay dead
With weapons in hand to wield
Purple Dragons never yield
Even against the forever many
Cormry soldiers proved forever steady
Dragons of Purple and Red
Full of fire and fight
Neither took flight
Till both lay dead
Last edited by jmecha on Fri Oct 28, 2022 3:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
No well but a presence, a consciousness with an almost tangible intellect
This infectious sore in the paved, stony flesh of the City of Splendors
The hateful, cruel wickedness was not the intent of any architect
But was a mirrorlike reflection of the character of the Well’s defenders
Many heroes in the history of the City have strove to cleanse this wretch-ed impurity
Soft footed Kal, Famed Siren at his side, Mad Soosh, Swift Laird, Holy Clarianna join the infinite infantry
Some names always remember-ed while their other’s struggle against time’s obscurity
This wound seems immortal as it festers and thrives in infamy
Our tale centers around the latest heroes who would dare to attempt to tame this beast
Loyal Sir Declan a knight most holy and true, unflinchingly stepped to the fore to join the quest
Lovely Luva a wielder of the Weave brought all her skill and perhaps that of a Sorcerer deceased
The last of the tale’s trio is your humble rhymester, though far from humbly dressed
We three undaunted by the reputation, gloom or palpable wickedness descend into the shadow
An immediate response from this foul entity was a vicious cloud of wings and teeth
Our Steel, Barbs and Art become our courageous and effective counterblow
Without revel our trio are through the door to confront the malevolence beneath
Colonies of Bats, Clutters of Skeletons, Mobs of Zombies came at the triad, their numbers near infinite
We companions vanquished all their foes as did the weapons of the heroes of old
Stoic Vale’s Fists, Brave Cornelius’ Hammer, the Cane of Aglorus and the Rage of Kalo temporarily removed the defilement
Yet the chilling twisted vision of the Glowing Tree turned all our precious lifeblood cold
Luva’s mystic fire and divine energies from Declan’s faith or my enchanted lyre
Brought final rest to the living dead that bodily slicing and pummeling never could
Our lives hung in the balance while Lovely Luva set this poet’s cloak afire
We paused for prayer before the final confrontation awaiting us behind the portal of wood
We entered the lair of the Prince of the Undead suppressing our wildest fear and dread
The fiend used foul magics and his life draining powers against we three
Our fellowship bore all his fell enchantments and in the end was burnt and bled
Still we emerged from the netherworld unscathed except for some scrapes and a singed goatee
Shadowed in the City of Splendors
Lurks one of artists’ worst offenders.
Another ten day comes and goes
Yet we, in gloom, have no new shows.
Dances, songs and plays suspended
‘Til this scourge is apprehended
Can we terror’s harm reverse?
Perhaps the legend now is worse.
Empty halls and coin now bated,
Heady dreams decapitated.
Whilst hope for bard’s renown is shrinking,
I wonder, ‘what could he be thinking?’
*Maday pulls off her cloak with a jerk and tosses it aside*
*the beat shifts and she begins to sing again in a slightly deeper voice*
Isolated and stranded
Is not how I planned it
I should have been exalted
but instead I’m reprimanded
for being modern and daring.
So what if everybody’s staring -
I brought the finest raiments
But now look at what I’m wearing.
*holds up his ale*
Here’s yet another tankard
To which I’m tragically anchored
I’ve got to change my name, my looks . . .
My brand is swift becoming fatally cankered.
Hypnodancer . . .
Needs an epithet enhancer.
Nobody’s gonna think of me
With such an unlaudative answer.
I could be the Enthraller,
The Chanson Caller,
Caterwauler.
I’m more than just a fan mauler.
Or the Whirling Gale.
When facing the Grim Wail,
Remedies are gonna fail.
The Mind Slug, Pink Clamor
Erotic Enamor,
There is no debating
Something fresh would be more captivating
And bring glory and glamor.
How about the Mind Slug?
Menace of the Jade Jug?
Would you even give a hug
To The Morkoth, The Clatterer?
The Magenta Music Scatterer?
Does it even matterer?
It certainly does
If only because
I gotta use the precise name
If I’m gonna gain the fame
I crave
So that others will rave.
But I may have to face the shame
Of being as alone as
A nameless necromancer.
If I am simply forever known as
The aimless Hypnodancer.
*falls to a heap on the floor*
*stands and pulls back on her cloak*
*resumes singing in the original melody*
The stages need reactivated
Adoring fans recaptivated
Could we before a court augustus
Bring this braying fraud to justice?
Time now around the cause to rally
And hasten the destined finale
Of this most antithetical campaign.
Let silence perish and music reign.
Seeks savage axes
Servants of dey Bitch Queen
Farewell dey earth, farewell dey skies, farewell dey rains
Goes to die!
Servants of dey Bitch Queen, we dies!
Seeks savage swords
Servants of dey Bitch Queen,
Brings deadly blades from dey earth
For slays enemies.
Spirits of dey dead, gives death an bitter grief
To dey enemy laid low.
Hail iron, hail gore,
Hail dey fights!
Hail dose about to dies!
Fighting a goblin using my Rapier and questionable wit,
I made a mistake and left myself vulnerable to the nit.
The horror that would have been if he had hit,
Was scary enough I almost did shit.
The goblin was rather fast,
And my patience was at it's last.
In an effort to quicken the fight,
I waved at him which was fun in the night.
The goblin frenzied at the sight,
And he swung his dagger with all his might.
With my most precious in a perilous plight,
My eyes went wide with fright,
And my bottom forge clenched tight.
Thankful the dagger did miss it's mark,
Grateful am I that this tree still has it's bark.
I sing to you this warning!
Do not risk that which rises in the morning!
When you decide to Taunt your foes,
Do not wave about your ten foot pole.
Consider the risks,
And perhaps instead shake your fist?
Open your mind and equip a quick quip,
Do not expose your imp to a Goblin whip.
When you fight for your life best to always use your head,
Not that which was intended for the bed.
Last edited by jmecha on Fri Oct 28, 2022 3:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
True Servant of the Weavemother
by Arras Raventree
The aggressions of the followers of the Nightsinger
And when she witnessed a Collection on the street
That inspired her to research and to bring her
To the House where she brewed the fiend's defeat
In Midnight blue her Art and Faith against Shadow
Our savior from the House of Wonder came
Destroying undead with Moonrakers eldritch glow
True Servant of the Weavemother, Nova her name
Thru the red door to bring the enemy the fight
With her party set to foil the Dark Lady's plot
Her prayer renewed the flow of the Weave's light
And brought the defeat of the fallen Copperpot
In Midnight blue her Art and Faith against Shadow
Our savior from the House of Wonder came
Destroying undead with Moonrakers eldritch glow
True Servant of the Weavemother, Nova her name
The Goblins and the Cocky Knight
by Alora Tuffet-Hopper
Sometimes in life, you see, good friends
Things can happen that are, say, remarkable
One of these is a knight named Kalo
And his quite unconventional “arsenal”
It takes much more than a rust beast, even two
To put a nick in Sir Kalo’s tools
For a sword as mighty and proud as his
Is like to make all the young maidens drool
Even has his friends flee, struck with abject terror
Great Kalo stands firm, solid, even oaken
A rust beast might peel away his metal plate
But his legendary sword is no mere token
So should you find a horde of angry goblins
And no choice but to quit the field
Stand behind brave Kalo, his codpiece unpadded
For it’s basically a damn tower shield
