Medievia Mudslinger

March 24th, 2002

A Tale of a Lone Warrior - by Ganzuuth

'Twas the night of a cpk, when all through the clan
All were preparing, especially Motan
His armor was polished, gently with care,
Yet all of Medievia shivered with fear

The zone had been scouted, the signs were clear,
This would be good, for his rival town was there.
He wielded his blade, and put on his leggings,
Lit a bright torch, and polished his new rings,

When from outside came a shout and a call
"Motan you fiend, you looted my son, Saul!"
A smile came to his face, no, more of a grin,
The night would be good, he felt it within.

He walked outside and gave an imp some gold,
And soon, right before him was a dragon, quite old.
And up into the air his dragon soared with ease
His destination, Bloodstone, he had a thirst to appease.

His dragon moved slowly, dragging through the sky
He didn't mind, for he saw the fight in his mind's eye.
This could not, although, be done by one man,
He had flying next to him, the rest of his clan.

There was Cunner and Radfon and Garrew,
Lamix and Darro, just to mention a few.
"To that clear spot, just by that tree!"
The entire clan listen, landing with glee.

They hopped off their dragons, which soon departed,
They were now ready, no matter how cold hearted
They walked deep inside, checked who was there,
No more than three men could be seen on 'where'

They wandered around, twenty-five men in all
They knew what they wanted, 'twas an instinctive call.
And though on 'where', they could see but three foes,
Something was wrong, causing troubles and woes.

All of a sudden, no one could be seen,
The where list was now sparkling clean.
"It's a trap! Run! Flee! Our foes have it made!"
But it was too late, for in his back lay a blade.

The fight had begun, a complete anarchy,
The judgment was there for all men to see,
Whoever came out, would rule the land,
Clutch the land, with a solid iron hand.

The kings of CPK, would come to rule you all,
But why is there silence? Have they ended the brawl?
It cannot be. If it were, there would be a shout.
But wait! From the smoke, the last survivor walks out.

Who is that? She isn't from either clan.
Not even from either town, this unknown woman.
'Twould seem as though, our new king has come.
No one could have thought that she would be the one.

She has no clan, no friends or bloodline
A solo player, the best one can find.
Tho', there is a moral here, in this twisted story,
For all people to learn from, a lesson you see.

This woman loved Medievia in a strange sort of way,
For she mudded all through the night and more in the day
To become the one, who had most heart to have said
"It's good to have real friends, but never leave Med"

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