Ye Song of Lightstrike

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Ye Song of Lightstrike

An epic tale of derring-do, as recounted by Kenneth the Skald.

Attend!
We begin by telling a tale
Of a brave yet mischievous young rogue,
Who did trek o’er mountain and dale from his home
In the boreal forest so cold.
Such a jape did it seem, with that weird little bird,
Who claimed to have wizardly ways;
And Tanueviel the Elf, and Baba the Grand,
Who was sweet, but a total nutcase!

They did come to a place with a colossal foot –
A strange thing to put in a town square;
They uncovered a plot by a goblinoid lot,
A dumb ogre, a mage and bugbear.
Haji Babs stole a dress from an elven priestess
Who turned out to be awfully nice;
And they sent Mr Sharpchin (the mage, who was tiefling)
To jail, for his dastardly heist.

They went to the Margreve, diseased and corrupt,
Where they rescued the king of the gnomes
From animate vines, in the last gasp of time,
For ‘twas sacked, the fair town of Treeholme.
In a cave full of spiders and gibbering mouthers,
They met with a Warlock called Mherren,
Who proved quite a good brawler ‘gainst carrion crawler,
But was sworn to a demon-lord patron.

They did come to the tower of Gobchuck, and how!
Did they give him something to lament!
The elf ran him through, then they slid through some roots,
Found a witch with a prophetic bent.
They fled by billabong, beset by tarragons,
Which young Lightstrike the rogue dealt with harshly;
Then they hitched on a schooner with a tiefling, and goons,
And saw orcs astride turtles from t’marshes.

In the city they shopped, and discovered a plot
Of gunpowder, by a demon’s cadets;
Then they were arrested, explored sewers infested,
And fought mutants in an odd bibliothèque.
As the city did burn, they stole a ship and set firm
Sail for Qualimor, of elves proud and fair;
For the witch told them elves might be able to tell
Of the legendary Sword of Air!

They fought grimlocks and harpies, with their skeletal army,
Tooth and nail, sword and shield, bow and quiver;
(But it’s probably best if we leave out the rest,
Of how Baba did fall in the river.)
A brain-dog got Mherren, and the pirate an’ all,
They were ambushed by Qualimor’s rangers;
But when the heroes dispatched two owlbears like old hats,
They were elf-friends – no longer in danger.

They were brought to the king, who was haughty and mean,
And Babs brought him down a few pegs;
But the king changed his tune when given Orcus’ bloodstoon,
And a goat that contained a weird egg.
Shadowmancers did fix the heroes who’d been licked
By the brain-dogs – the illithids’ thralls.
So the friends asked around ‘bout mind flayers in town,
But nobody had seen them – just dwarves.

You remember, dear listener, the elven priestess
From the town with the very big foot?
Well, our heroes found clues that she’d researched some tomes
‘Bout the Air Sword, and where it’s been put.
But she had disappeared, which was awfully queer,
So they went on a perilous quest
To save Elovyn, and work out what’s the thing
Behind all this decay and sickness.

Lightstrike healed an ent, who then showed them a rent
In the earth where the duergar did lair;
So they ventured below, and found grimlocks and gnomes;
Nigh lost Babs to the Plane of Air.
They did battle a mummy in a crypt; they stole money,
Artifacts, and a blade made of fire;
Which Lightstrike did wield, with his nerves made of steel,
And it spake, and they made a pact dire.

Then with Ki-Shun the monk he broke out of his funk
In the cells of the curious svirfneblin;
And he jumped in a pool, like a veritable fool,
To emerge in the Feywild, of all things!
They went on a crusade to retrieve a fey blade
From beneath a sick tree, where a dryad
Held the elf-queen, whom they’d saved in her secret cave,
From an assassin, of a criminal triad.

It turned out that her spouse had sent her to this house,
Along with the mystical egg;
So Lightstrike and Ki-Shun talked the fey guardian
Into letting them all go instead.
They did make sure, first, that the horrible curse
That had turned the Feywild to a swamp,
Was lifted, then they left, with queen, sword and egg,
And returned – what a lark! What a romp!

But when they got back through the pool near the hag’s,
They were jumped by a charmed umber hulk;
Their nefarious guide wanted something, and tried,
But he failed, and went off in a sulk.
They met Fibblestib, a young gnome, who did show
Them a back way to evade duergar bands;
Though with monsters, and puzzles, and traps, they were troubled,
And Babs almost lost to the sands.

Lightstrike smote with sword a fire golem, and more,
And at last they reached old dwarven halls;
They found magical loot, and had strange dreams to boot,
That delighted, confused, and appalled.
Through some burnt, ancient places, and lava-filled spaces,
They dodged ropers, and portals of blood;
Then Lightstrike gave hell to a guardian grell –
They pulled through, though Baba got drugged.

The kenku was saved by a mind flayer mage,
Who pulled Mherren, too, out of the water;
They enlisted his aid, for he knew well the way,
Though the jury’s still out if they oughtta.
Now they’ve narrowed it down: Elovyn, if around,
Will be beyond the fungal fields vibrant;
Should they find Moradin, the enslaved duergar king?
Or Xargraata… and K’Varn, the eye-tyrant?

Even if they survive, and find Elovyn alive,
The Fellowship must escape from the Deeps;
Oh, the Sword of Air! It must be round here somewhere!
(And Maagog’s blade is giving them creeps.)
That strange rune on rogue’s brow? And who’s Light Touch, anyhow?
So many questions, and so little time
Before Darkness descends upon Yore, and it ends
With black stones, and a toad, and some slime!

So here endeth my ode, I’ve been Kenneth the Skald;
Thanks for listening – please, tips in the bowl.
I’m away now, for sure; there be demons abroad,
And foul creatures, and things with dark souls.
Let’s hope this Song of Lightstrike be not the true end,
And with epic deed he might win through,
With his valiant friends, who would bravely defend,
All of Yore
– oh, and Zimlok, too.

Type

Text, Literature