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    GreySage

    Joined: Jul 26, 2010
    Posts: 2495
    From: LG Dyvers

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    Sat Aug 20, 2011 1:09 pm  
    Fun D&D Poetry Thread

    In honor of my youngest son's 6th birthday today, I am taking his advice and 'writing' some of my D&D poems on the computer. Since I don't think the community at large is ready for them yet, I'll post them to Canonfire instead of Facebook. Cool

    Note: I wrote all of these in my High School years playing AD&D during the mid-80s. Razz

    I was invited to dine with a dragon.
    We laughed and made merry with wine from a flagon.
    He told me he planned to have me for desert,
    And I laughed and fell down and rolled 'round in the dirt,
    'Til he snatched me up quickly with one giant claw,
    And brought me up close to his huge, gaping maw.
    I said, "Hold!"
    "What did you think of the woman you ate,"
    As I looked at the bones that now shined on his plate.
    I said, "Now I am angry and so shall avenger her!"
    I gave him a taste of my Holy Avenger.


    After reading through Piers Anthony's Split Infinity series, my friends and I decided that Wishes would be more powerful (that is, less likely to be twisted and ruined by the DM) if they were put to rhyme. Thus, I experimented with several like the ones below.

    I wish,
    If added to my Strength,
    Had I some ten percent,
    Everything at length,
    Would know just what I meant,
    Whenever I'd say to an evil creature, "Thou repent!"


    If a Huge, Ancient Red came across me in bed,
    I'd surely be dead from my toes to my head.
    So, I wish for a few, three Hit Points times two.
    My worries be through with total anew.


    If I had maximum Hit Points,
    And wasn't a person who lit joints,
    Would I be a much better fighter?
    Well, why don't we try it and see?
    Yes, that should be easy for me.
    I never was much of a lighter.


    I now have a dagger +3,
    But that's not enough for me.
    I'm greedy and always want more.
    I wish for a dagger +4.


    I'm sure you're ready for a break if you've read this far, so I'll quit now and encourage everyone else to post their own fun D&D rhymes for our entertainment. I promise, there's at least one person on Canonfire who'll appreciate them. Wink

    SirXaris


    Last edited by SirXaris on Sun Jan 27, 2013 12:28 am; edited 1 time in total
    Apprentice Greytalker

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    Sat Aug 20, 2011 2:33 pm  

    Haha, I love them! Here's one I wrote just now;

    Dungeons and Dragons
    A world within my own mind
    Adventure awaits!



    Btw, I am also LtGreeneyes on here and Llurendt on greytalk


    Last edited by SC-Grodok on Sun Aug 21, 2011 9:22 am; edited 1 time in total
    GreySage

    Joined: Oct 06, 2008
    Posts: 2781
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    Sat Aug 20, 2011 2:49 pm  

    Gentlemen, such writings should be submitted for posting to the Front Page! LOL

    We will be adding a section for Greyhawk and D-n-D poetry to our Articles Page. We would like to encourage you and all others to continue submitting such material to Canonfire!

    Well done Sir Xaris and Grodok. We look forward to reading more of your work.

    Nicely done.

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    GreySage

    Joined: Jul 26, 2010
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    Sat Aug 20, 2011 3:34 pm  

    SC-Grodok - Awesome haiku! Happy

    Mystic Scholar - That is a great idea! More opportunities for me, uh, I mean, 'all of us', to show off our writing talent. Cool

    SirXaris
    Black Hand of Oblivion

    Joined: Feb 16, 2003
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    Sat Aug 20, 2011 6:12 pm  

    I wrote this as a lark while working on the base maps for an OJ adventure. It is based on Rick Miller’s adventure going by the same name as the title.

    Sea of Fallen Summer

    A dark cavern, water dripping
    A blue dragon leaps!
    Treasure glinting

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    Sat Aug 20, 2011 8:41 pm  

    Probably one for a FR setting here...
    Dark writhing beneath,
    Many forgotten creatures,
    Underdark awaits.




    Just to have it on this post as well, I am also LtGreeneyes on here and Llurendt on greytalk


    Last edited by SC-Grodok on Sun Aug 21, 2011 9:23 am; edited 1 time in total
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    Sat Aug 20, 2011 10:52 pm  

    Poetry! Excellllent! Evil Grin
    GreySage

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    Sun Aug 21, 2011 2:35 pm  

    As a teenager, I had an AD&D Elven Fighter/Magic User of 7th/7th level named Shan d' Lier. I thought it would be fun to make up the verbal components to some of his spells. As using Latin so extensively was a bit beyond my ability at the time, I chose modern earth jargon to represent the nonsensical-sounding words of magic with the following results.

    First Level
    Magic Missile
    Sting like a thissle
    You Magic Missile.
    Give him (or her, it, them) a kiss
    And do not miss.

    Charm Person
    I like you
    And you like me,
    So let's not fight
    Since friends we be.

    Hold Portal
    Nice little portal,
    Please let me in,
    Or I'll huff and I'll puff
    And I'll kick you in.

    Second Level
    Web
    Spiders, spiders, listen to me.
    These poor fools confused must be.
    Entwine them in your sticky strands,
    Then sit and watch and clap your hands.

    Invisibility
    I can be seen and that's not cool.
    You've bought the beans, so listen fool.
    I must be clear as if the winds
    And I were near to being twins.

    Third Level
    Fireball
    Fire, fire, come a bit closer.
    Make them feel like toast in a toaster.
    Burning brighter, hotter and hotter.
    Cook them well like a tator totter.
    Popping, crackling, make them fry
    As McDonald did to each Fry Guy.

    Lightning Bolt
    From the sky I take such power
    That's only seen in thunder shower.
    I have no kite, nor key, but sense,
    So aim this charge across the fence.
    No string is needed, there they be.
    Hit them. Be sure. Don't mess with me.

    Fly
    Zippidee do da, zippidee aye.
    My, oh my, what a wonderful day.
    I feel like flying. Let the wind blow.
    Throw out my ears like baby Dumbo.
    I just don't feel like taking the stair.
    I'll take my chances on a wing and a prayer.

    Please attempt to refrain from throwing rotten fruit. Razz

    SirXaris


    Last edited by SirXaris on Sun Apr 19, 2015 4:19 pm; edited 5 times in total
    GreySage

    Joined: Oct 06, 2008
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    Sun Aug 21, 2011 2:59 pm  

    Now that's really awesome, Sir Xaris.

    I like it. That will definitely find a permanent home here on CF! :D
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    Sun Aug 21, 2011 5:03 pm  

    I love em! :D
    Grandmaster Greytalker

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    Mon Aug 22, 2011 2:59 pm  

    Wow! This is a thread my other name sake Aoric would love. He's the bard in the Spine Castle campaign. His favorite poem would be by a fictitious author of my creation Known as Caswil Gastingil.

    Rosewoods Voice

    “Of supple wood, of rosy glow
    Mistress of wind, my heart endures
    Your lips to mine, and mine to yours
    The toils of man, are made undone
    When your voice is heard, divine I become
    Now you are gone, forever lost
    My heart is nothing, it angst in pain
    Without you I wither, each day “

    One I have yet to used in the campaign.

    St. Cuthbert the Cudgel

    "St. Cuthbert as the story goes
    Once clubbed the old one on his nose
    With a great cudgel, that made him roar
    All the way back, to Dorakaa"

    [/i]


    Last edited by Argon on Thu Mar 07, 2013 6:36 pm; edited 1 time in total
    Grandmaster Greytalker

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    Mon Aug 22, 2011 9:08 pm  

    This is a fragment of a poem from an article I started and never finished about a folk-tale from the Geoff-Sterich region -

    To her mate and husband, then Etair went,
    While Telchur’s cloak lay on the land.

    At her passing bird and beast
    Scratched the snow for seed and nut
    Of summer’s death to be reborn.

    Fair and grim her noble brow,
    Though chill wind raised a rosy blush.

    Black her hair like raven’s wing
    ‘Neath hood and mantle of plaided wool.

    At her belt a quiver of arrows,
    Twenty and one straight and true,
    Fletched with feathers of a mottled goose.

    Iron their heads, charmed with fire,
    Death to the fey folk under the hills,
    Who stole her man from their marriage bower.


    The other one I'm working on is about a young Ullish lady, but I can't think of anything appropriate to rhyme with Kester. Evil Grin
    GreySage

    Joined: Jul 26, 2010
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    From: LG Dyvers

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    Tue Aug 23, 2011 5:18 am  

    Nice ones, fellas! Smile

    smillan_31 wrote:
    The other one I'm working on is about a young Ullish lady, but I can't think of anything appropriate to rhyme with Kester. Evil Grin


    Jester, fester, 'blessed her', 'arrest her' ... assuming I'm pronouncing it correctly. Wink

    SirXaris


    Last edited by SirXaris on Tue Aug 23, 2011 6:04 am; edited 1 time in total
    GreySage

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    Tue Aug 23, 2011 5:35 am  

    Man, you guys are giving me a great deal to transfer to the Poetry Page . . . once it's up!

    Keep it coming guys. Gals, you're invited too!

    ROFL
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    Tue Aug 30, 2011 5:25 am  

    smillan_31 wrote:
    The other one I'm working on is about a young Ullish lady, but I can't think of anything appropriate to rhyme with Kester. Evil Grin


    Hmm, neither can I, what a vile place! Razz
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    Tue Aug 30, 2011 5:46 am  

    http://greyhawkery.blogspot.com/2011/08/greyhawk-poetry-corner-2.html

    rolleyes
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    Tue Aug 30, 2011 3:49 pm  
    The Round Pouch Inn

    A Dwarven drinking song written specifically so that my surface-dwelling Mountain Dwarf could stagger through the streets in the wee hours of the morning after a long day at the forge with the lyrics slurring from her lips.

    I still think it's silly, but Mystic says it's worth sharing so I'll share it with you. Enjoy. Smile

    Round Pouch Inn

    Oh, t'was an early morn - and a sullen one-
    When last a Dwarf was 'low the sun,
    But a happy day at the end was known
    For the dwarf's round pouch of gold had grown!

    And with work and sweat and an honest grin,
    He's naught but laughter for a friend,
    And a silly smile upon his lips
    To accompany the ale he sips!

    But the last was strong,
    And so t'was - 'ere long,
    When the drink he drank
    Was of what he stank...

    That his wife, she called,
    But the old man bawled,
    For he knew her not in his drunken state,
    And he begs her still to this very day...

    For forgiveness still, for the slight he did,
    When he said, 'Hello, Luv, Will yeh have a sip?'
    And she did agree to his offer then,
    Just to find that naught was left within

    The dark old mug, that he'd spilt and drunk
    And she sent him back to that costly bunk!
    And the money made, there he spent again,
    And his new home's called, 'The Round Pouch Inn'!
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    GreySage

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    Tue Aug 30, 2011 5:55 pm  

    Bravo, Crystaltears! That's right on the money. Happy

    SirXaris
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    Tue Aug 30, 2011 10:28 pm  

    Crystaltears. Bravo!
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    Wed Aug 31, 2011 5:16 am  

    Thank you both. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

    I made my character for a Greyhawk game I'm to start on Friday actually have ranks in craft: poetry, so perhaps I'll have some more poems to share here fairly soon.
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    Wed Aug 31, 2011 9:00 am  
    The Walls of Redoubt

    And it would seem the Muse of poetry has decided she wants to catch a bit of air through me. Who am I to argue with a Muse?

    ~*~*~

    It was a quiet minstrel to first tell the tale in a place known as The Red Blade Tavern. The establishment was nestled comfortably in the town of Stalmaer in Gold County.

    The minstrel took the stage with an easy stride, and drew the bar stool resting on it forward. He took a lap-harp from its case and tuned the chords drawn across the glossy wooden frame, listening to the quiet resonance produced from the gentle pluck of his practiced fingers.

    When the sound was to his satisfaction he rested on the stool and strummed a simple chord, his clear, crisp voice cutting through the air in the room with ease despite its quiet volume.

    "Come and listen, if you will,
    To a tale I've yet to tell.
    Turn your mind far from this place
    To lands once bathed in light and grace."

    His fingers graced the strings again, just enough to send a few notes humming through the air. Already he had the attention of the majority of the inn's inhabitants as he continued his tale.

    "The northern reaches of our kingdom
    Rarely thought of so far south
    Have stories to rival what minstrels have spun
    By the telling of a common soldier's mouth:"

    A few more notes graced the air and he could see he'd caught the barmaid's ear. He gave her a small nod of his head as he spoke the introduction in a voice that carried no music.

    "This story, friends, from Redoubt in Kalinstren, is said to have sprung from the lips of an unsung hero who fought on the walls and drank of the tankards of the Blackstarr inn."

    He gave his eyes leave then to find those of the youngest occupant of the room, shining blue orbs which had settled on his form in curiosity. To this young patron her offered a smile as he said, "There, in the war-torn north, they call this The Walls of Redoubt"

    And by now the movement in the establishment had drawn to a minimum, wenches still took drinks to tables, but their eyes were fast upon the minstrel too, who played the cords of his harp so minimally as he began to sing,

    "Come stand beneath the bastion of the north,
    Where Kalinstren banners send her watches forth
    High above restive lands of war,
    And vigil kept is just a common chore."

    And the first verse was one of beckoning, carrying the feel of a call to war, though its tone transitioned in the final lines, lightening a little as it alluded to the enticement in the second stanza's words.

    "You've never seen a sight so proud as this,
    Tall, stone walls glisten in the morning mist
    As the sun shines brightly in the sky over our heads,
    Upon sixty-some ballistae ready in their beds."

    A grin danced across his lips between the prideful words, and were one not sure they rested in Gold County they might have well mistaken the man for a Kalinstren soldier singing of his pride in his duty as his ballad continued on,

    "And never was a siege brought before her gate,
    That left her defenders wondering what would be their fate,
    For granite walls of Dwarven craft are like a promise made,
    They will not crumble before men without a wizard's aid."

    The grin had become a knowing smirk and the bard waggled his eyebrows at the last, accentuating the joke he'd meant to carry in the words. However, as the cords continued they took a somber turn and the humor was gone from his face as quickly as it had come,

    "We know the desperation of a people wrought with pain,
    With loss and heartache, truly, for what would be our gain,
    If nothing came of darkness sewn by the Old One's glove,
    And memories were not held dear of those we've lost and love?"

    More than a single head bobbed in agreement with this sentiment, for loss of a loved one was certainly not an alien concept, not even here in the southern reaches of Gold County. For the next line his voice trumpeted a bit, a subtle change in volume and carriage that turned it from a soft mourning tone to one of determination and fierce pride,

    "And so when we stand in Redoubt we keep our heads held high!
    Our whispered words, each promise felt, a dream that will not die!
    We'll once again to war, my friends, with allies at our sides,
    And tell our enemies once more we will stand against their tides!"

    An energy carried in the air and for a moment it seemed as one or two of the patrons might stand or cheer as though rallied to the needs of which the bard was singing, but no one did, for all wished to hear the song's conclusion.

    "For within the Walls of Redoubt, hope is kindled strong,
    And dreams are kept and losses wept for by all who come along!
    We stand together within the Walls, while attackers break apart,
    Within the walls of Redoubt, lies Furyondy's heart!"

    The last line, musical and enchanting as it was, was a risk to the minstrel, for the people of Gold County could be as prideful as those of the north, but he was a practiced performer and the reception of such a claim was surprisingly good in this far southern corner of the country.

    When the applause had died down and the minstrel was nursing an ale bought him by the patrons he tipped his head to those nearest, "Thank you for your generosity. It's a tale that seems worth telling. Now, does anyone here have any requests?"

    No answers came immediately, though the nearest patron did smile and say, "That was a clever introduction to your last work, Minstrel, to claim it was born of a soldier's lips rather than your own."

    In a hushed voice the performer responded, "Aye, indeed, a clever introduction because it was a true one, though I never claimed, good patron, that my lips were not soldier's lips." The minstrel gave the patron a wink and could see the look of surprise in the patron's eye as he caught sight of the scar normally hidden in the folds of the minstrel's eyelid.

    ~*~*~

    Credit goes to Iressi for furnishing me a tavern name and placing them in that town in Gold County. Smile

    Also, in case anyone would like it, here's the poem without the quotations and narrative bits:

    ~*~*~

    The Walls of Redoubt

    Come stand beneath the bastion of the north,
    Where Kalinstren banners send her watches forth
    High above restive lands of war,
    And vigil kept is just a common chore.

    You've never seen a sight so proud as this,
    Tall, stone walls glisten in the morning mist
    As the sun shines brightly in the sky over our heads,
    Upon sixty-some ballistae ready in their beds.

    And never was a siege brought before her gate,
    That left her defenders wondering what would be their fate,
    For granite walls of Dwarven craft are like a promise made,
    They will not crumble before men without a wizard's aid.

    We know the desperation of a people wrought with pain,
    With loss and heartache, truly, for what would be our gain,
    If nothing came of darkness sewn by the Old One's glove,
    And memories were not held dear of those we've lost and love?

    And so when we stand in Redoubt we keep our heads held high!
    Our whispered words, each promise felt, a dream that will not die!
    We'll once again to war, my friends, with allies at our sides,
    And tell our enemies once more we will stand against their tides!

    For within the Walls of Redoubt, hope is kindled strong,
    And dreams are kept and losses wept for by all who come along!
    We stand together within the Walls, while attackers break apart,
    Within the walls of Redoubt, lies Furyondy's heart!

    -Written 08/31/2011. Smile
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    GreySage

    Joined: Oct 06, 2008
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    Wed Aug 31, 2011 2:15 pm  

    Excellent! Our Poetry Page is growing before it's even created!

    Keep them coming, Crystaltears. :D
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    GreySage

    Joined: Sep 09, 2009
    Posts: 2440
    From: SW WA state (Highvale)

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    Wed Aug 31, 2011 2:28 pm  

    I am waiting for someone to hurl a limerick our way...readers beware! Happy

    -Lanthorn the Poem-challenged

    (I did write one in high school about Dracula, but I cannot recall it and doubt I could find a copy)
    GreySage

    Joined: Oct 06, 2008
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    Wed Aug 31, 2011 2:30 pm  

    So? Re-write it!

    And I never did get that pm. :(

    Hahahaha!
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    GreySage

    Joined: Sep 09, 2009
    Posts: 2440
    From: SW WA state (Highvale)

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    Wed Aug 31, 2011 2:41 pm  

    Hmmmm....the fact that you didn't get the PM (I sent one just for you, Mystic-Scholar, after you mentioned you didn't get one!) worries me, cuz I sent out quite a few PM's last night! This may mean I am also VERY technologically challenged, or the "PM" option button does not work!!! Cry Evil I don't wanna recraft them, but many of you deserve the credit I gave you for your various entries!

    -Lanthorn the Crestfallen PMer
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