a young warrior fulfils a dream,
one on one combat, and his foe
folds like wet parchment.
a wounded musician, has his back
even as the javelin impaled
in her arm (her spoils)
drips with life.

the clatter of a die.
a number announcing if she survives
is softly reported

[or how Oscar’s help was neither wanted nor needed, thank you very much]

bright lights glare down,
shouts and roars collide with white ceilings.
thuds echo from the table
and stomps boom below.

[or how Chafon is an interesting influence, and Aegon seduced an ogre]