Author: MC

After much exertion Marcus climbed aboard
a beached elven ship, and brandished his sword.
The Kalamaniacs defeated two creatures of air,
Evidently summoned by an elf with black hair.

Macho raised the mouthpiece of the Fargab to his lips,
and gave his report to the men on the ships.
Upriver they found no decent place to moor,
They must continue sailing up the eastern shore.

Karyon kept watch o’er the Kalamaniac camp,
He suddenly noticed his ankles were damp.
The group simultaneously cried “Oh my gosh”,
And barely escaped being killed by The Wash.

In rowboats the Kalamaniac party slips,
In search of someplace to dock their ships.
Upriver they went but no harbour was found,
So they landed their boats to make camp on dry ground.

Marcus was raised on the Solamnian plain,
His legs unsteady on the bounding main.
Kanathar is accustomed to riding on ships,
With prayers to Titarr animating his lips.

Macho and Karyon brought guests below decks,
A dragon cultist for questioning; and Iriad for sex.
With the cultist, Macho quizzed his prisoner, curiously,
With Iriad, Karyon jizzed his jizz in her, furiously.

The ships sailed onward across the surf,
And Gilbert soared skyward, on the dragonnel’s turf.
Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire,
The wizard’s wrath was more than dire.

By night six ships crossed Kalaman Bay,
‘Til dragonnels and riders got in their way.
But Kalamaniacs are nobody’s sitting ducks,
They faced the foe, and gave very few fucks.

Three ladies strode down the Kalaman dock,
[Drawn by the pheromones from Karyon’s cock?]
Rookledust, Iriad, Tem Temble made haste,
To join the Kalamaniacs on their trip to the Waste.

To travel the Northern Wastes without trammel,
Macho decided he needed a camel.
He spared no expense, for he was no miser,
Outfitted with shoes, saddle bags, and a visor.