It all started on a night like tonight
It was quiet then too
With the breeze leaving
a small whistle in the air.

Fate on the breeze,
But we wouldn't know that until now
would we?
You could hear it though
if you listen to it
Oh, wait is that a crossbow bolt?
You've died.

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]

chills creep up my legs.
the frost white presence
now awake, rises from cave-stone floor.
the chill is on our faces,
breaths and bodies freeze.

the rogue among us steps,
quick fingers dipping into pockets,
their own for once.

Draconic eyes glint like sapphires,
drawn to the currency,
the two gold coins
held before him
in two confident hands.

echoing through the dark space,
a single clink,
a tossed wink.
and just like that,
the thief had stolen a heart.

[or how Chafon seduced a dragon]

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]

Having a partner with mental illness is not a low-level quest.

Having a partner with mental illness is debatably the best quest in the game and has incredibly valuable Loot.

"I am farming so much exp off of this argument right now."

"I just scored some mad reputation points with your parents."

"Hey, can we do that over again? I didn't get the drop I wanted."

Flesh feasters finds fish framed for food
Thrills for the gills that are dead in his feud
You enter my cavern swords clang, clash, corrupt
Death is my name and my answers are abrupt

My waning in this river of endless sorrow
Unknown are the fates of heroes from tomorrow
Though the bones of long dead dreams hide my hold
Though the endless rush is unceasingly bold

I smite these wanderers casting sickness and famine
This sorrow thickens among the ill fate fallen
My time will come and he, the one chosen will arrive
My will will fail and his sword will thrive

The rope that you’re using to hold me
I crave as my very own,
for I am your woman desiring
and submissive is now what I am.

Your whip might hold such terror
for one who knows not of pain,
for me it’s an object of wanting
that drives me to seek it again.

The gag that holds me in silence
so my protests cannot be heard,
arouses me more than I tell you
as screams are held deep inside.

So much of me needs all this from you
making me want in this way,
I cannot find it with others
only you can control how I play.

The torture you give is sublime now
such suffering drives me insane,
my mind goes deep into meltdown
and beyond anything I can explain.

The force of your lash overwhelms me
with agony driving so deep,
yet I must take all that you give me
as you dry the wet tears when I weep.

‘Tis then that you hold me so softly
with arms around me so tight,
to know that I am your slavegirl
and suffering for you is so right.
*

From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 **** Verses 2017