The Heroic

By: Koradhil Posted on: February 14, 2009

Gather 'round friends, and do listen well

For I have a story to tell.

Tis a tale of adventure and valour so bold,

And the lesson it teaches is worth more than gold.

A hero there was, years back in time

Whose luck seemed to be blessed by the Divine.

Was he knight? Was he mage? Was he warrior of song?

Many have guessed and yet all may be wrong.

While wand'ring one day through the Black Forest's trees

He heard a man crying, shouting out pleas

For help. Our hero rushed off to see

What could put a man in such dire need.

The man he found was from far to the south.

Hints of el'Jazira graced the speech from his mouth.

The man cried, "She is taken! Stolen away!

"My daughter, I fear, will not live through the day."

Our hero drew weapon. "Where have they gone?

"My duty," he said, "Is to right this great wrong."

The man from the desert pointed to the east,

Towards the Great Rock and the Cult of the Beast.

With nary a word, our hero that way strode,

A beacon of justice on the dusty road.

He scaled the dark crag and entered the black cave

With but one thought in mind: the young lady to save.

Soon in the cave the young man came to find

Foul markings galore, quite darkly defined.

Traces of blood smeared by devilish paws:

The remnants of prey torn by terrible claws.

Then there was a gasp of surprise.

A man had come in through a door to the side.

A quick flash of light, a gurgle of breath,

And this evil kidnapper swiftlyly met his death.

Our hero heard chanting far off down the hall

So he clung to the shadows, staying close to the wall.

While some of their number he did avoid,

Many were those whose evil was destroyed.

Soon he came upon a chamber vast

And the scene that met him warranted a gasp.

A tall and strong cultist was chanting a spell

While the maiden was shackled by chains forged in hell.

Our hero rushed to her but was held in check

By a twin-headed canine that snapped at his neck.

A quick struggle ensued, it should be no surprise

That soon the red flame died out in its four eyes.

Then to the last cultist did he turn his gaze,

And slew him as well just as a black haze

Crept out of a portal that led Gods know where

And the Beastlord soon stood, its roar shaking the air.

The monster looked, eager, at the girl so caged

And the sight of this threw our hero into mad rage.

He rushed into battle, not stopping to think

For he knew the fair maid was at death's bloody brink.

The woman shrieked in fright as it came,

But the young man distracted it with battle's flame.

With terrible cry, the Beastlord raised its claw

And being struck, the brave man to the stone floor did fall.

Thinking him dead, the Beast moved to the girl,

But our hero had not yet departed this world.

With mighty battle-cry, Beastlord's weak spot was struck.

The maiden ws saved by his Divine-blessed luck.

The battle now over, he unlocked the chains

And he led her outside onto the warm bright plains.

Then off to the west to her father they went.

As soon as he saw her, his sorrow was spent.

The man offered jewels, the man offered wealth.

Our hero returned them, took none for himself.

One final offer and two men shook hands,

The youth richer with friendship in el'Jaziran sands.

Now, my friends, I hear you ready to ask:

"What's the lesson you mentioned so many lines past?"

Tis simple: No title or item of sovereign-based worth

Is richer than having true friends on this earth.