The Tale of Trapper Wilde

Below is an old poem told to the young kobolds of Kundar to stop them scrambling into every cave and buried crypt they find around the city, as there are a few and they go very deep. There are real dangers down there of course, but those are far too terrifying for a parent to explain to their children.
Do not go down into the dark, young one,
Do stay in sunshine where it's safe to play.
For you all know the dark holds Trapper Wilde,
And down below she waits for young astray.
A cunning one is Trapper Wilde, she built
Such famous dungeon traps and pits and snares,
Like gold that grabs the thief then stabs with blade,
Or mirror binding victims unaware.
She crafted once an axe that swung when tripped,
A classic trap, but Wilde's ne'er failed to hit.
T'was hidden by a magic spell, displaced,
So when fake axe was dodged, the real one bit!
Most popular for rich and magic folk
was she, no wizard or great noble house
would build a tomb without her service hired
Securing them from thief or rat or mouse.
A Wilde she was, by name and nature true,
She loved with passion each new trick design
Or puzzle crafted, all gave her delight.
The cleverness of Wilde ne'er ceased to shine.
But secrets stay the safer singly known,
And once a vile man knew this truth well,
He asked of Wilde, "When I am laid to rest,"
"I wish the safest tomb of lock and spell."
"A thousand gifts I'll rain upon you when
I am assured my rest won't be disturbed.
Bring every tripwire, every lever-sconce,
To guard me once I am at last interred."
Wilde's work was good, with traps in every wall;
Three thieves were hired to test - not one returned.
But then the man asked her for one room more,
'To secure a secret', 'ere her coin was earned.
The room was carved out, down and down they dug,
She asked what he required, he said "Just you."
Destroyed the exit, wrecked the whole path out,
As rocks and stones came tumbling down and through.
None know what happened then, or dare to tell,
None know how she survived, what pacts were made.
But since that day the underground is her
Domain - a river none may safely wade.
She waits beneath the earth, for food to eat
To wander to her maze of death and worse.
She waits for you, my child, to be so bold
To fail to heed my warning rhyme and verse.
For Wilde is mad now, rage consumed her soul
Her pits will trap, her puzzles will confound.
So please my darling, stay where you see light
Else all that will remain's a scaly mound. -Author unknown