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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #1910614
Sir Dace and his party discover an ancient text and those who will do anything to get it.
Sir Dace ventured into the Castle of Dragon’s Jaw,
A cave that devoured every man it saw,
His squire sorrowed at the loss of his Lord,
And knew every bard’s finger would touch a chord.

Sir Dace emerged from the cavern intact,
A worn and tattered sack tied to his back.
The young squire ran to his side,
“Sir Dace, I am amazed your survived!”

Sir Dace patted the squire on his head,
Then guided the party to the nearest Inn bed.
It was there the Lord unwrapped the prize,
A treasure of myth, stories, and lies.

The ancient spell book had been worn,
Many of the pages were torn.
Who would decipher its sworn secret?
Would the wizards of Nar’Shy know where to keep it?

The road to Nar’Shy was full of treachery,
Bandits and gypsies would practice their thievery,
Nor Sir Dace and party were never afraid,
It is often spoken he was a master of trade.

Ricardo and Kain, the thief and the lancer,
Marshala the private dancer,
Accompanied Sir Dace through the bandit camp and more,
Even provided direction to Lake Alma’Moore.

Marshala’s beauty caused the lake to separate,
Allowing Ricardo to lock pick the gate on underwater gate,
Kain dispatched all unearthly beasts,
Young squire prepared all the cooked meats.

The underwater gate led through a damp cavern,
Marshala carried a lantern,
Deep inside lurked a hideous spider,
Kain’s lance found its way deep inside her.

Outside of the dank spider cave,
The adventurers wandered into a grave,
Fallen soldiers and spell casters,
Rose from their graves with no masters.

Marshala’s radiance had no effect,
And the lancer appeared to only slow their step.
Ricardo the thief held the undead at bay,
Shooed the party, “Get away!”

With Ricardo’s fate unknown,
Trust issues within the group were grown,
Sir Dace could not sway their distrust,
And Marshala looked at him in disgust.

At the gates of Nar’Shy,
Is where Kain said goodbye.
Marshala chose to stay,
Trusting the Lord enough to follow his way.

An audience was given to young squire and Lord,
The prostitute would be ignored,
The elders gathered around the text and discussed,
Figuring out the cryptic message was a must.

An old man named known only as Duke Buffing,
Offered Sir Dace of what amounted to nothing.
Petty coins, copper and silver,
Surely this was not the price of what was thought he would deliver.

The text was requested back,
The book’s secrets would remain intact.
The elders of Nar’Shy would not let him go,
The doors were shut, nobody would know.

Sir Dace readied his steel,
Young squire prepared for His will.
It was when the Elders arrived in mass,
That their true form was seen at last.

Serpent men from realms far below,
Conspiring to find magic to overthrow.
It was only when Sir Dace expected a mortal blow,
That the locked room began to shimmer and glow.

Marshala decended from the windows above,
Surrounded by what is described as the feathers of a dove.
Her radiance turned the serpent men to stone,
Sir Dace should have known.

Marshala approached Sir Dace and kissed his cheek,
Then gently relieved him of the book in his keep.
As quickly as she came, she vanished,
Sir Dace and young squire would surely be banished.

All the Lord and young squire could do to explain,
The Knight’s Guard ignored their pleas and pushed them to the rain.
Under the rule of Queen Mar’Sha’La, the punishment is death,
As she will personally see the party takes their last breath.

Under the guillotine lays Sir Dace,
Young squire sobs goodbye, covering his face.
Before the razor blade can drop,
A flying dagger knocks it from its stock.

Lady Mar’Sha’La grabs the ancient text and runs in disbelief,
Only to encounter the Lancer and the Thief.
Lady Mar’Sha’La unfolds her wings,
Blinding those around her, all things.

“Drop the book, so that you may live!”
“Never, it is your life you will give!”
The winged beast charged Sir Dace,
But it was the Lancer’s glaive that met Her Grace.

She gave a loud hiss, and fell to the ground,
Her dark, black blood began to pool around.
It was then Sir Dace discovered,
The secrets of the book need not be uncovered.

For the damage and death this book had the potential to cause,
It was not worth it to the Lord, and gave him pause.
The book would be destroyed, buried, for peace at last.
It was given to the Thief to make sure it was fast.

The book was cast into a hearth found at the Inn of New Birth,
The ashes were then taken and scattered around the earth.
Lord, Lancer, Thief, and Squire all became friend,
It is there that our heroes’ tale finds its end.
© Copyright 2012 Vincent Price (vprice at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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