By: Kernunnos Posted on: February 22, 2004
Once within a land so dreary, not the lightest tune could cheer me,
And it seemed my very heart lay dying, leaden on the floor.
Welcomely I spied a tavern. Though ‘twas gloomy as a cavern,
Got me thinkin' beer they'd have'n; have'n meads and ales and more.
With this air thick and oppressive, they'd have meads and ales and more:
Drinks for drownin' woes galore.
Place was stinky, I remember, rank from sweat and rotting timber,
Fire just a dying ember, beer in puddles on the floor.
Wearily I took a table, though the room smelt like a stable;
Petty price to make me able, able to forget Mhaldor -
Lose this dark and dangerous midden that the devils call Mhaldor -
Lurking there outside the door.
Then a silken voice so certain, polished smooth from years of flirtin',
Thrilled me - filled me with sweet mem'ry of our golden days of yore.
Boldened, being slightly tipsy, verily the little gypsy
Leant right in and soundly kissed me, kissed me warm as e'er before -
Lips of honey sweetly parting, just as warm as e'er before -
Bringing heat to cold Mhaldor.
Wine renewed our lost acquaint'; we paid no mind it smelled like paint;
Just sat there swapping tales - awallow in our misery no more -
While by hours the day grew longer, with our spirits burning stronger,
‘Til we, tarrying no longer, bravely ventured out the door;
On feet unsteady did we venture, venture gamely out the door,
In the black night of Mhaldor.
Eyes from out the darkness peering, whispers on the edge of hearing,
Roused me from my dreams of wine and woman and their sweet allure.
Rushing to me came my senses - alarm to think we'd no defenses
As we'd wandered, taking chances, on the back streets of Mhaldor;
Lost within a maze of alleys called the back streets of Mhaldor;
Like to be our sepulcher.
Still my gypsy felt no yearning to be on our way returning -
No satyr's knack to shake so many hours' indulgence in liqueur.
Heedless she of any danger, smiled and waved at passing stranger
‘Til at last I did arrange her cross my shoulder and implore,
"Hush, dear lady, still your laughter. Hush sweet friend," I did implore;
Still she giggled, all the more.
Barely had we started back, when, from out the shadows black,
Swept bitter wind so biting cold as mortal creature should endure,
And, upon its heels looming, hideous for want of grooming,
Strident voice so loudly booming, came a watchbeast of Mhaldor -
Dark, disgusting, undead creature was that watchbeast of Mhaldor -
Barking challenge, near a roar.
Deep apologies I stuttered, ‘ere my business there I uttered,
That I'd come a-painting portraits for the great halls of Mhaldor.
Plead that our inebration came from cause for celebration -
That I'd had this invitation - thus sound judgement did ignore;
Begged forgiveness that this honour caused me wisdom to ignore;
Error learned, he could be sure.
Happily my reputation brought him pause for contemplation;
Coveted my painting skills were even there in old Mhaldor.
Flattery's in great demand, amongst the crowns of any land,
And mine's a truly flatt'ring hand, its loss a hard thing to restore.
Not worth annoying lords for trifles - hard their graces to restore.
That thought saved us, nothing more.
Grudgingly cold beasty led us, muttering he ought to shred us,
And would gladly if again he caught us traipsing past his door.
Suddenly my burden blurted that she knew well shredding hurted;
Yet, if one kept eyes averted, ‘twas a trifle to endure.
Close one's eyes and hum a ditty, ‘twas a trifle to endure.
Beasty snarled, nothing more.
"Such malevolent bicuspids! And your aegis went and rusted!"
Gypsy offered as I fought to keep my load from saying more.
Beasty growled, "Hold your tongue! Now don't you know the night's still young?
"Plenty time to have you flung into the dungeons of Mhaldor;
"Flung into the blackest pits down ‘neath the city of Mhaldor."
Gypsy giggled. Nothing more.
"Such a silly little threat, to throw me in an ubliyet."
Then beast's boney fist did crack, and to the ground my gypsy bore;
And as she sprawled within the gutter, pain at last drew back the shutter
From her mind to see the utter peril pounding at our door.
A moment late my dear friend saw the peril pounding at our door,
Courtesy of cold Mhaldor.
Madness born of desperation bade me snap with irritation,
"How dare you mar the present that I'm taking to your lord!
"Handpicked it was by your own master, the lovely face that you did plaster
"And bloody to a near disaster! You'll get the credit I assure.
"Don't think I'll take this fall my friend. You'll get the credit I assure;
"Rue this day forevermore."
"Guards!" I howled, "come and see the master of this villainy!"
As sudden panic spread across the fearsome face he wore.
Then as he vanished in the night, I did myself at once take flight,
And with fair gypsy holding tight, remove myself from old Mhaldor;
Without one single backward glance, removed myself from old Mhaldor,
There to venture nevermore.