Azoria

To Dwarven Cave We Rode (part one)

To Dwarven Cave We Rode

Back to the sewers with awful stench
With good ole knight and hatchet wench
We met old Nigel, fingers small
Who carried on with orders tall
But least we turn away unsold
I bargained us some upfront gold
And then the thieves saw wagon load
Foretold what lurked in mother lode
So to the cave we traveled hence
Our breeches tight for recompense

Our party five did grow in two
With new members from Nigel’s crew
Faces unknown, we welcomed them
In blackened clothes and leather hem.
But just before the party went
We all made sure Mel bought a tent
Her weighted purse always dragging
Her cheapskate friends always bragging
And with one final shopping trip
The next morning, did town we skip

Through fields and plain we gallantly
Rode across golden wheat filled sea
Our days spent quiet journeying
My days annoyingly rhyming
Until one night we stopped to rest
Where creatures tried to take the best
The fighter and her tent thus scratched
Stirred wicked rage, down came the hatch’!
Poor druid mourned the now, dead cat
But we returned to sleep now fat!

~ Seraphine

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