November 25, 1999
Yet in this stricken land full of woe and mope,
I see one last final strand of joyful hope.
His name oft times varies as the shifting sands,
Yet his will is as solid as the constant lands.
A Cleric, Warrior, Thief, or Mage he may be,
He is just started on his quest as a newbie.
He has chances for both the evil and the good.
His spirit shall be carved as if it were wood,
Whether he turns to evil and burns it to ashes,
Or shapes it for good and fullfils many wishes.
He can slay fiends, dragons or a hideous troll.
He can dash hopes, dreams or destroy a wizard's scroll.
He can join up with others and fight in a formation.
He can do it alone and learn by experimentation.
Working his way up he can help many another,
Or go to a killing zone and players' dreams smother.
With all of his multiple possibilities magnified,
We can only hope that with holiness he is unified!
Will his attire be dagger, cloak and cowl?
Nay, such inventory would make him howl!
Will he hold a scroll and mage's staff?
Unlikely, for at these he would laugh!
Will he a healer be, like the lowly monk?
Ha, he'd rather the spraying of a skunk!
He prefers at his side a shield and sword,
For by his hands he will destroy the horde.
Woe be to he who tempers with his battle fray,
For to them his sword may just possibly filet.
He could well fight and slay all day.
Or at hotels and camps would he stay?
Will he choose going to the plains or the 'combs,
Or will he slay the fiend who on this land roams?
The villages and towns he could slash and burn,
Or attend Clan meetings till they do adjourn.
Will he help lesser players by giving a meal,
Or will he from some man his only gold steal?
Will he quest until his powers wax and wane,
Or return to town when he feels evil's bane?
Will he fight until his larders are full,
Or turn for home once he owns traders wool?
If he helps and creates he may be made an avatar,
Or make people mad enough to have him dipped in tar.
He can quest and explore until the day he dies,
Or fade from the spotlight and lose his clan ties.
For in Medievia there is not an end in sight,
One man's role playing could go on through out the night.
On it goes until the realm of reality does call
Out to each and every one of us role players all.