Ballad Of Torrun

When the demons began their attack upon the group the warrior monk drew forth his axes: Justice & Retribution. Spitting out the side of his mouth he caught the eye of one demon engaged with one of his comrades. Torrun licked the edge of his axe cutting his tongue and bleeding upon the rune scribed blade. The demon sneered and Torrun grinned so wide he looked drunk or mad, perhaps both! He rushed forward proclaiming to be benevolent and sing the creature a song of poetry while it died.

Were things ever so dire,
that we need a coffin within the mire?
Yet when one heeds the call,
they do not control where fate may fall.

Into the darkness of the sea,
did the God of the Sun send me.
Inside this wondrous fish made of steel,
did wagging fins we make move by booted heel.

To live or die our efforts we ply,
as friends aided one another to wounded souls fly.
With hearts restored and our determination girthed,
did the sea’s wrath we escaped to find landed birth.

When trying to make A God… Rebuilt,
people you will need with minds A Bit… Tilt.
Such was true of this God gathered crew,
of which to this band I am now new.

The Death Lord of the sea borne realm,
did curse a few with a broken helm.
Through grief and through spell,
did their skulls quake and minds swell.

Upon the new day did Ra’s Eye grow,
among a wooded coast had we laid our heads low.
With new life a stir among the verdant woods we did hear,
the dancing forms of harried hares by vicious vulpines did appear.

Their frantic dance awoke the tilted minds,
festering deep in unnamed and lustful spines.
A Silent-Dream argued against their state,
to relieve them from dire mental hate.

The lustful Troll soon found his mind okay,
whilst the Un-Named One flitted away.
Fervent prayer our Seeker did make,
for answers from Ma’ip’s gate.

With knowledge gleaned did we quicken our pace,
To follow our friend in his wandering lost race.
En-route we searched for his beleaguered mind,
only to see him find us as his finish line.

Reunited once more upon wooded coast,
did we hear an Arch-fiend make a mournful boast.
Joining together did we form up to battle,
The hellish little runt known as Ratel.

THWACK!!!

With his second blow Retribution laid the demon out to be unconscious. Torrun got up close and whispered in to it, “You should tip the serving girl where you’re going, pipsqueak! Don’t worry that shite looking face of yours, I’ll be here all week! HAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!”

Looking at the next demon as he readied a coup-de-gra upon his current foe, Torrun twitched his eyebrow, “Next verse chum, strap in!”

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Seen upon the 28th of Corg