Medievia Mudslinger

The Quest Cut Short - By Rapscallion

'Twas midnight and the City slept
When brave questers came.
Went they forth to seek their wealth,
And to make a name.

Warrior stood so proud and fierce,
His weapons huge and strong,
Dagger to ward of foeman's blows,
Sword so sharp and strong.

Thief entered shadows, deep and dark,
His pierce ready to lunge.
Sought a broad, tempting back
In which to send his plunge.

Cleric readied his herbs and vials,
And looked around for folks to heal.
Stroked hands across a wounded man
To cure him of a nasty weal.

Mage stood ready to face the foe,
His body frail but mind so strong.
Spells he had of potent force,
Bolts that streaked down streets so long.

'Tween the four was formed a pact,
To conquer and control the land.
"I shall lead and beat all foes"
Said Warrior holding up his hand.

"Go to the streets and find a foe,"
Said Warrior to Thief.
Thief snuck out about his task,
Shaking like a leaf.

Through the alleys he searched atime,
His vision scanned around,
A janitor swept with no real care,
Aha, a victim found!

Cleric from afar cast spell,
Janitor began to glow.
Thief readied his best, sharpest knife,
For the killing blow.

The knife plunged in and foe did cry,
Warrior charged, warcry so loud,
The Janitor fell to Mage's blast,
They did their own guildmasters proud.

The corpse was looted and of gold stripped,
A prayer sent it to the gods.
Another old Janitor came along,
And soon fell to the evil sods.

The cleaners fell both near and far,
Their cries for mercy went ignored.
In the gutters, corpses mounted,
But soon of this the friends were bored.

A mightier target came to sight,
A man hailing from foreign climes,
He fell dead before the massed onslaught,
They killed his like so many times.

Mercenary screamed loud as he died,
An Orc fell just as fast.
Apprentice thief was rent asunder,
His struggles didn't last.

Drunkard died with nary a sound,
His bottle then did spill.
The friends were sated, for of death,
They had now drunk their fill.

But death had ways of tempting men,
And confidence was great.-
A Guard entered their street and so,
They went off to their fate.

Proudly they went for their next cheap kill,
Pride sent them on too soon,
They crept up to the Guardsman in dark,
Beneath a waning moon.

Thief did lunge, his daggers missed,
Warrior did charge again,
Mage and Cleric readied spells,
But now the friends knew real pain.

The Guard turned with a sudden snarl,
Unsheathed his sword in a trice,
His shield took the blow from Mage's blast,
And he gave the Thief a slice.

Cleric gave a ready prayer,
The Thief gave thankful grin.
With this backup at the rear,
How could they not now win?

Warrior bellowed his assault,
Guard just stood his ground,
He thrust his sword and struck it home,
Spun Warrior round.

Mage incanted, sent his bolt,
Streaming for the stalwart Guard.
Guard ducked low, Mage thought anew,
Perhaps their foe was too hard?

A thrust and Warrior fell,
His life seeped in a puddle,
Thief found himself blade to blade,
His thoughts were in a muddle.

Thief was blocked by mighty parry,
By thrust was sent to hell.
With a bloody blade Guard ran up,
The last two foes to fell.

Mage did send his shot of force,
His mana was now spent,
Soon his lifeless form was slumped,
On the floor, strangely bent.

Cleric bore his mace with fear,
His face was full of dread,
A quick riposte and he fell,
Like his friends, all now dead.

The one moral of this sad tale,
That sent the friends to their deep grave,
Is not to get above your selves,
Be somewhat cautious, not too brave.