Often when I think of fantasy adventure stories, they take place in some part of the world with diverse regions of trees, hills, mountains, swamps, etc. Our campaign took place in a desert country/kingdom on the coast of whatever continent it was attached to. Deserts don’t sound particularly adventurous – they’re kind of like the ocean, with miles and miles of nothing to see but you know there are things out there. This country did have some mountain ranges (that we never ended up getting to) and probably non-desert areas (of which I can’t recall), but for the most part, our journey had us trek across sand, sand, and more sand.
The thing about being in the desert… you don’t expect places to have snow or ice. It’s just naturally impossible. So when you find a place in the desert that happens to have ice, you should be a little wary, suspicious, or what have you, right? Right?
This poem is about Teddy’s character, who was an elf monk named Erza Scarlet. For the record, before this campaign started, we all agreed we would have evil characters to switch things up. Sometimes you just get tired of being the good guy. Well, Teddy just couldn’t play an evil character and thus Scarlet was the odd (wo)man out… well, until the dwarf priest joined the team. Anyway, our group had gone into a tower to look for a little boy (I can’t remember why) and some level of the tower was covered in ice. In the center of this level, which I believe was all one room, was a frozen woman. The majority of us decided to ignore her but Scarlet decided to go up and touch her. I’m not entirely sure what Scarlet was thinking during this event (as a player, I was jumping back and forth between the campaign and work so I wasn’t there for the whole thing) but I assume it had something to do with the fact that she was a goody two-shoes.
Oh, also, it might be handy to mention that each stanza of the poem is written in limerick form. I wanted to change up the style of how I was writing poetry as the last two were fairly similar in form so I decided to use the lighthearted limerick style to describe a ridiculous, yet serious (as Scarlet was in danger of dying), event of our campaign. Every stanza doesn’t flow super well as limericks should, but I had fun writing it and that’s all that matters.
The Queen in Ice
There once was an elf monk from the east
Who entered a tower with a priest
She found a woman in ice
Touched her before thinking twice
And the ice queen’s power was released.
The ice encasing the queen turned red
From the body of the monk, blood spread
With fear she began to scream
But whispers lured her to dream
And ice started to encase her head.
Sensing danger, Brother Faith ran in
The warrior Lavark behind him
With urgency they acted
The ice queen now distracted
But still the ice covered her skin.
To save the monk, our hero Lavark
Hacked at the ice, sword swinging in arcs
Ice spikes sprung up from the ground
The monk in ice still was bound
And her vision started to go dark.
The priest entered a battle of wills
With the ice queen to defeat her chills
He fought with will and pure light
Overpowered her with his might
But it did not count toward his kills.*
The ice encasing the monk shattered
Falling to the floor with a clatter
The elf monk Scarlet was saved
The cursed ice she had braved
Will hurt no other ever after.
*It was tradition for us to keep a kill count during a campaign. Pretty simple – if you dealt the killing blow on an enemy, +1 to your kill count. The dwarf priest actually didn’t do a lot of fighting and, as you can imagine, didn’t get a lot of kills. It was kind of funny to hear him do this great battle of wills with this magical ice queen but because he didn’t actually kill her, he couldn’t increase his kill counter.