Minsc stood tall on a chair With a screech that was raising my hair To the rescue Boo tore He scampered down to the floor And kicked the scary mouse through the air
Dynaheir tossed a spell at Edwin's face. Her range came up short - a mage's disgrace! So now in a way, He's got Prismatic Spray. Though it projects from a most awkward place.
I went to Alora's late lunch In search of some morsels to munch It all was delish Except this one fish That went down with a bit too much crunch. Jaheira and Faldorn weren't friends
Finland 100 requires procrastination; by Powers that Be that think they define the Nation; but alas there was a mind that was nimble whom said:
Pee on my grave as you kneel imbibing a thimble; For a Finland Hundred, such purportedly Obedient Station,
but in truth our land is inhabited by creatures such, enjoying as much the independence of mind, as not to be bothered, by the said procrastination not easily suffered.
Nanne samegiela they might say, but to those in power it will obviously go astray,
So is FI 100. Less admirable than might be aspired?
Edit: nanne samegiela = cherish the saami-language
Whoopsie woe, Jaheira and Faldorn were not friends, All the while saami and Finnish Powers That Be were ideally at odds:
Let us light up Saana by those sacred bi-colours, of white and blue, not caring if it were, in fact, arduous, to saami whom consider that place sacred.
Hey, uggh, they are just such a spoilsport! Citing some poor ancient concerns as retorts? Red, blue, yellow and green!? For identity, was there ever worse really seen?
Take white and blue, and forget anything else could ever be true.
So Jaheira and Faldron were made to be friends, because, hey, most often so sadly it ends.
Hm, allow me to get this back on a limerick footing.
Jaheira and Faldorn weren’t friends, Their fighting rules were just “pretends”. Once Faldorn got snitty: “I’ll get you, my pretty!” And ran over J with a Benz.
A wolfwere walked into a bar, wondering why the door had been left so ajar; realising it had been lead into a trap, poetic standards into its skull forcibly tap. Alprighy, the Finnish xmas ham is not lonely in having much lard
So the poorly poet read the beginning anew And worked himself up all into a stew The old writer's block Had his skills in a lock And he didn't know what to do.
Rasaad kicked a wolf in the face And bare-handed dispatched it with grace His hands were aflame Thus his party did claim The smell of burnt fur his disgrace
The tower of Durlag looks gloomy But inside, it's really quite roomy Ship-lap and french doors With some new hard-wood floors Chip and Jo think the potential's quite boomy
Alora loved her rabbit’s foot “But just where did I that thing put? Minsc, you had it last.” But just then Boo gassed And returned it all covered with ... soot.
Khalid once encountered a gnoll That was really unusually swole When it let out a chuckle, He felt his knees buckle, Frightened right down to his very soul. In Toril, the gods are quite petty
In Toril, the gods are quite petty And greedy as ol' John Paul Getty. They take, never give As long as they live, To say "Thanks" will make them go sweaty.
Imoen wanted to dance But lonesome she'd hardly the chance! A mod was soon written So CHARNAME was smitten. And thus blossomed Bhaalspawn romance......
While Valygar snuck down the lane No shadow was he t'was quite plain "I'm an invisible Stalker!" He said to one gawker Quoth gawker, "Not while strolling down Main."
A burning man needed a drink. Morte chuckled and bobbed as he thinked: "If he should pass gas Out the crack of his ass, He'd have far greater issues than stink!"
Comments
With a screech that was raising my hair
To the rescue Boo tore
He scampered down to the floor
And kicked the scary mouse through the air
Dynaheir tossed a spell at Edwin's face
Dynaheir tossed a spell at Edwin's face.
Her range came up short - a mage's disgrace!
So now in a way,
He's got Prismatic Spray.
Though it projects from a most awkward place.
Gorion unearthed some old scrolls
Kept under a book about souls.
They led him quite deep
Beneath Candlekeep
To a copy of Valley of the Trolls
(Last line doesn’t scan perfectly, but hey ...)
I went to Alora’s late lunch
In search of some morsels to munch
It all was delish
Except this one fish
That went down with a bit too much crunch.
Jaheira and Faldorn weren't friends
by Powers that Be that think they define the Nation;
but alas there was a mind that was nimble
whom said:
Pee on my grave as you kneel imbibing a thimble;
For a Finland Hundred, such purportedly Obedient Station,
but in truth our land is inhabited by creatures such,
enjoying as much
the independence of mind, as not to be bothered,
by the said procrastination not easily suffered.
Nanne samegiela they might say,
but to those in power it will obviously go astray,
So is FI 100.
Less admirable than might be aspired?
Edit: nanne samegiela = cherish the saami-language
All the while saami and Finnish Powers That Be were ideally at odds:
Let us light up Saana by those sacred bi-colours,
of white and blue, not caring if it were, in fact, arduous,
to saami whom consider that place sacred.
Hey, uggh, they are just such a spoilsport!
Citing some poor ancient concerns as retorts?
Red, blue, yellow and green!?
For identity, was there ever worse really seen?
Take white and blue,
and forget anything else could ever be true.
So Jaheira and Faldron were made to be friends,
because, hey, most often so sadly it ends.
Jaheira and Faldorn weren’t friends,
Their fighting rules were just “pretends”.
Once Faldorn got snitty:
“I’ll get you, my pretty!”
And ran over J with a Benz.
A kobold named Deekin sat down
In a tavern not too far from town.
He sang about doom,
But without any gloom
And a grin that could stop any frown.
A wolfwere walked into a bar
wondering why the door had been left so ajar;
realising it had been lead into a trap,
poetic standards into its skull forcibly tap.
Alprighy, the Finnish xmas ham is not lonely in having much lard
So the poorly poet red the beginning anew.
And worked himself up all into a stew
The old writer's block
Had his skills in a lock
And he didn't know what to do.
Rasaad kicked a wolf in the face
And bare-handed dispatched it with grace
His hands were aflame
Thus his party did claim
The smell of burnt fur his disgrace
The tower of Durlag looks gloomy
But inside, it's really quite roomy
Ship-lap and french doors
With some new hard-wood floors
Chip and Jo think the potential's quite boomy
Dour Xan was a victim of fate
for his fortitude was far from great
Struck by a stiff breeze,
He fell down to his knees -
A common occurrence of late.
Alora loved her rabbit's foot
“But just where did I that thing put?
Minsc, you had it last.”
But just then Boo gassed
And returned it all covered with ... soot.
Khalid once encountered a gnoll.
That was really unusually swole
When it let out a chuckle,
He felt his knees buckle,
Frightened right down to his very soul.
In Toril, the gods are quite petty
And greedy as ol' John Paul Getty.
They take, never give
As long as they live,
To say "Thanks" will make them go sweaty.
Lothander went hiking one day
Pond'ring how to poison his prey
A Bhaalspawn laid low
And chaos to sow
Twas the card he desired to play
Alora was skilled at her craft
Although people thought she was daft.
She’d fall down a mine
And say “Pretty shine!”
Then take every gem up the shaft.
Imoen wanted to dance
But lonesome she'd hardly the chance!
A mod was soon written
So CHARNAME was smitten.
And thus blossomed Bhaalspawn romance......
Yoshimo snuck into the room.
Seeking a law-breaker's doom
He set up a trap
But uttered 'Oh, crap!"
When early it released it's plume
Divining can be quite a feat
Especially if done with one’s seat.
HaerDalise sat down,
Looked up with a frown.
“A fully charged Wand of Blue Sleet?”
While conjuring forth a dire bear
Poor Edwin brought forth a large hare.
'twas under his hat,
Beside a polecat,
Which stayed 'til displace by a mare.
While Valygar snuck down the lane
No shadow was he t'was quite plain
"I'm an invisible Stalker!"
He said to one gawker
Quoth gawker, "Not while strolling down Main."
A burning man needed a drink
A burning man needed a drink.
Morte chuckled and bobbed as he thinked:
"If he should pass gas
Out the crack of his ass,
He'd have far greater issues than stink!"
Minsc found a chest full of swords
While clearing out two goblin hoards.
The skull had a mace.
The thighs held a brace
Of daggers the size of fjords.
Alora gave Edwin a pinch.
For bringing her into a clench.
“Please let go of me!
I need to be free!
I like you, but good lord, the stench.”
While floating in Branwen’s canoe
We saw a large paisley pink gnu
"Now that is a sight!
'twas sure a wild night,
When Imoen drank with the flu."
In Candlekeep there walked a lass
Who suffered from rank, silent gas
With each step she took
The tapestries shook
And rotted into a brown mass.
Viconia wanted a drink
But had nigh to offer but pink
Old Winthrop then said
with a wink to his bed
I'll trade ya mead for a taste of your stink
An old cleric was roaming the wild