Mont Under

Pushing Good Fortune to the Limit

In which our heroes bargain with forces both high and low, hoping for success.

A Poem of Reflection

The adventurers eight, on a quest to save,
A family threatened, by perils most grave,

By the city Mayor stand accused of a crime, they do learn,
And strike a bargain with soldiers in two days to return.

To Lovedell the team heads, after sealing the deal,
Some still battling a sickness none among them can heal.

From their flying scout, Skera, they await a word of warning,
Fearing the soldiers’ reinforcements will return by morning.

In a tower they camp, for two days and two nights,
Still haunted by faraway sounds and green lights.

A new companion the young elf, Cruven, boldly does seek.
As all the while, half the party grows more steadily weak,

Finally, return to the Crossroads they agree that they must,
And in Lisp, a Cleric of Glittergold, place their trust.

And just in time! Amid a day of cold mist and rain,
They meet the pompous Duclan, and Captain Leod again.

From his Captain the arrogant Quaestor did order a bargain made.
A horse for Vas’s gauntlet and sword – a fair trade?

And yet another meeting, at Fairingtown Branch, with the Mayor!
The party’s grace extended one week more seemed most fair.

Yiqinne quickly stables the new steed with glee,
Then they all watch for a green light and boom, where there is no more Tree.

Midnight strikes and back into the Pit our heroes descend,
Ghoulish fiends circling an altar are the first to meet their foul end.

Next door, finger bone lights reveal a crawling horror most strange,
Then a giant’s corpse gives two gifts, seeking lives in exchange.

Moon keys in hand, to new sanctums the adventurers go,
Kale discovers his stolen family at last – but no!

Tricksters are they, who curse and spell!
‘Til our party of heroes return them to Hell.

Exhausted, the weary band makes a foul tunnel their bed,
‘Til they open yet one more doorway to dread.

Another wave of corpse monsters from an endless sea,
And silence, then our heroes guess where the Adversary must be.

Down, down, down a dark stair to a forgotten door,
That requires more strange keys than any before.

Within, a vast hall, sick with death and gloom,
And a sea of dry bones which fills the whole room.

Beneath their boots, the skeletons pile, three feet deep,
And at the chamber’s edges and corners, even more steep.

The party clears a path and Yiqinne looks for a draft, but finds none,
When four giant skeletons rise – and the next fun’s begun!



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