Medievia Mudslinger

June 24th, 2002

Medievia Poetry - By Benoni

Glabrezu - By Benoni

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by 72,
That a demon there lived whom you may know
By the name of Glabrezu.
And this demon he lived with no other thought
Than to kill me and be killed by you.

I was a hero and he was a mob,
In this kingdom by 72.
But we died with a flair that was greater than death,
I and that Glabrezu.
With a life that was easily taken to heaven
By your formies and you.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by 72.
An earthquake came out of the ground, killing
Well, almost, that Glabrezu,
So that your fate kinsmen came,
And got to him before me,
To loot his eq, pack up in your hole,
And steal my orb of Tyche.

And myself, not half so happy in heaven,
Came back, hating ct 3-
Yes!- those are the scoundrels (as all men know,
In this kingdom by ct 72).
That the quake came out of the ground by night,
Quite nearly killing that Glabrezu.

But his hps were higher, by far than mine
And those fate'rs (ct 3)
Curse those of ct 3.
And neither the gods in the heaven above,
Nor the demons down near 72
Can reclaim my orb for my own hole,
From The Demon Glabrezu,

For the earth never quakes, without bringing me dreams,
Of killing Glabrezu.
And Fate never spies, but I still meet demise,
Trying to slay Glabrezu.
And so, all the night dream, as I sit the lava stream.
Of my orb - was Max! - my orb and it's gleam,
That max tyche, taken by 3,
from Glabrezu, belonging to me.

The above is based on the poem Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe and the original can be found here

Through the Dark Woods - By Benoni

I pack up supplies, tie them all on tight
And prepare to set out, I'm trading tonight.
Parchment, art, flowers and bows,
Onward, onward, the dark trail goes
The bright clear moon, no storm clouds ahead
A morgan just purchased, just mounted and fed.
Back to the story, I'll quicken the pace
As me and a rogue, come face to face.
A slurry of rogues! What a devious snare,
With a flash of my hand my blade cuts the air.
This day, I'm sure, these rogues will rue,
Dodging and dancing, my blade strikes true.
Cutting paths of blood and wading though gore,
Slashing and hacking till they move no more.
Searching corpses, looting my find,
Time it has taking, but I don't mind.
I'm almost there; it's a short route beside.
And then on to where the rock toads reside.
My mule is stubborn, but fearful as well,
The sounds here are strange, it's hard to tell.
The swamp weeds sing, in the midnight breeze.
Constantly peering, scanning the trees,
Quickly I check is anyone there?
Should I venture in? Do I dare?
I hike up my boots, check quickly my sword,
and enter the dark woods (a risky accord).
A flash surrounds me, bathed in pink light.
My steel is bared, I turn to fight.
A flurry of footsteps, I think I'm surrounded,
I flee for my life, the alarm has sounded.
A flash to my left, I bolt to the right,
I turn and scream south, the reigns held right.
I burst through a temple, panting, exhausted.
My equipment and life, were almost accosted.
Pale and grinning, I turned to regard,
A few failed assailants, leering hard.
With a nod and a bow, I continue my way,
To the minotaur city, as night fades away.


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