"The Wyvern inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven"
Once upon a night so eerie
While I wandered, weak and weary,
From slaying a mosnter in the lands of Lore,
As I quested, Achievement Tracking,
Suddenly there came a whacking.
As if soem beast was attacking, attacking with a ridiculous roar.
"'Tis some wild boar," I mumbled, "whacking with a ridiculous roar
Only this-a level 1 boar."
Ah, but then I start to remember,
My first Upgrade to Member,
And when I witnessed the first major battle ever fough on Lore.
The three Champions of power
Fought until the final hour
When Drakath's hands produced sorrow - sorrow for doomed Sepulchure -
For the heart, body, mind and soul were sucked from DoomKnight Sepulchure -
Who will not Respawn—nevermore.
But this noise I couldn't determine,
Which made me ever more uncertain,
Chilled me-filled me with goose bumps never felt before;
So now, to calm the quivering of my blade, I shouted (shivering):
"'Tis some wild boar fighting creatures over there in that moor -
Some low level boar fighting creatures in the land of Lore -
That it is, and nothing more."
My curiosity grew stronger;
I paused once-but then no longer.
"Swine," said I, "or Monster, truly your ruckur I can't ignore,
But I was Achievement Tracking, and so loudly you came whacking,
And so fiercely you were attacking, attacking with a ridiculous roar,
and wasn't sure I knew of you"- here I ran into the open moor;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Gazing deep into that darkened clearing,
Long I stood there shaking, fearing,
Unblinking, thinking thoughts no Hero dared to think before.
But the stillness was unbroken, and in silence, naught was spoekn.
And the only word outspoken was the whispered word, "Sepulchure?"
This I whispered, and an echo purred the word, "Sepulchure."
Simply this, and nothing more.
Back towards the path turning.
A monster fight 'twas what was yearning,
And again I heard a whacking somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely there is something in that wild weed,
Let me see, then, let's proceed, for this I must explore-
Let my chills be still a moment as once they were before-
Could be the wind and nothing more!"
Quickly then I slashed my blade,
And at that moment, something swayed;
Out there flew a stately Wyvern from the older days of Lore.
Perched upon the one lone tree present in this open moor,
Perched, and squawked, "Sepulchure."
Curse that Wyvern, sitting lonely
On the one lone tree, spoke only
That one name, as if His soul were present in the Wyvern's outpour.
"Tell me why thy incessantly insist on tormenting me for!"
Quoth the Wyvern, "Sepulchure."
"Wyvern!" yelled I, "Thing of evil!"
I thrust my blade with great upheaval
Towards the beast by which repeats the name of whom we all abhor.
"Dare not speak that name again of thy depraved DoomKnight Sepulchure!"
Screeched the Wyvern, "Sepulchure!!!"