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A Tale of Eight

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Eight companions set out to Sherman Wood,

All stalwart, brave and true.

They had taken up a per'lus task,

To find their patron's due.


Through torrential rain, past twisted tree,

And perils great and small,

The Eight reached a river dark and deep,

In which no man should fall.


The trackers stooped, pondered the soil,

And espied a tell-tale clue,

"The fierce Goblin band went North" they said,

"And that way we must too."


Eight pressed quickly onward then,

Quarry close at hand.

All steeled themselves, stuck their courage fast,

To meet the Goblin band.


As the Strongarm deep wound through the wood,

Fickle nature did not relent.

She sent cold rain to deter the Eight,

From where their will had bent.


On and on these friends did march,

The terrain did slowly change.

From wood to rock the path led North,

They entered a mountain range.


The way became most narrow and long,

The Hobbit smelt a rat.

Dashing forward, making not a sound,

Most quiet like a cat.


On he crept, 'right round the bend,

Then his blood ran cold.

For high above, tucked in the cracks,

Lurked the Goblin fold!


He scurried back to waiting friends,

Ill tidings to report,

"Beyond the pass, I tell you true,

Lies a Goblin fort!"


"Evil foes do lurk in grottoes high,

We cannot reach them from the ground.

But by those holes so well designed,

Tall ladders can be found!"


"This news you bear is grim indeed",

The Elfin ranger mumbled.

"We shall charge right in" the Dwarf replied,

"But careful not to stumble."


"Against one archer", the rogue replied,

"'Tis certain I could but dance,

But with that throng there, you know it true,

I wouldn't stand a chance!"


So Eight brave heroes hatched a plan,

Against the Goblin source.

Those stout of armor should gain the holes,

To defeat the green-skinned force.


The rest agreed to remain behind,

Their arrows at the ready.

Should more of the Goblin host stream out,

They would staunch the deadly eddy.


So with plot in hand the clerics prayed,

Seeking favor for the party,

With blessings laid, they strode ahead,

Steeled for the coming sortie.


As they turned the trech'rus bend,

Goblin bowstrings sung.

But chain mail made of sturdy steel,

Insured no arrow stung.


The brave men three with blinding speed,

Alighted ladders long.

The Goblins up in hidey-holes were unprepared,

To face the swordsmen strong.


As sword met spear, forked lightning flashed,

Thunder was heard to roar.

It was hard to see both friend and foe,

Beneath the wat'ry pour.


Those Goblins six, they stood no chance,

But the fight had just begun,

Hidden foes streamed out from ev'ry hole,

No battle had been won.


Then mighty bows rang loud and true,

The sorceress worked a spell.

Brave cleric, rogue and ranger too,

Made sure the Goblins fell.


And when the mighty storm let up,

Only the Eight now stood.

Looking 'round they were pleased to see,

That they had struck for Good.


And as for me, I did my part,

I lived to tell the tale,

Of how Eight companions won the day,

Upon the Goblin Trail.


A Tale of Eight © Palim

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