1: There once was a girl and her name was Vaunea.
Her destiny was to be chieftain someday.
But since she was weak, and clumsy, and meek,
She needed to prove herself some other way.

Her skill would be challenged by hunting a bear,
but since she was timid, she wouldn't fight fair.
She set out alone, her methods unknown,
And caught the beast sleeping at home in its lair.

2: Her so-called accomplishment garnered her fame,
at least 'til yours truly accomplished the same.
So looking for clout, again she set out,
but this time she chose a more suitable game.

Selecting a target she better preferred,
she promised to bring down the tiniest bird.
To demonstrate skill, she said she would kill
the sparrow without any weapon. Absurd!

Her plan was to wait in the lake where she thought
the sparrow would bathe, and be easily caught.
But breaking her trust, it bathed in the dust
and took from the shore all the armor she brought.

3: Vaunea should have ended her hunt then and there.
But though she was foolish and easy to scare,
determined was she (though less so than me).
So disarmed and naked she did not despair.

The sun was now setting, and shadows were long,
and so Vaunea followed the sparrow's birdsong.
But knowing she heard, the mischievious bird
decided to bring her to friends who were strong.

Vaunea had been clumsy at fighting before,
and since all her armor had gone from the shore,
she bolted in fright and ran into the night,
to save herself just from an average boar.

4: Now deep in the woods she was hopelessly lost,
but then her salvation appeared in the frost.
The sparrow arrived, to help her survive
and simply to swear off the hunt was the cost.

5: So Vaunea returned to the tribe in dismay,
the sparrow, the proof of her shame, on display.
But through some deceit, she masked her defeat,
and gained the name Sparrowfriend after that day.

6: Vaunea gave the sparrow a letter, addressed
to yours truly, claiming that she was the best.
And though it was clever, the sparrow would never
return, for I killed it and won the contest.

1: The dust did rise as 'round our man
a dozen bandits circled, riding.
“Hand your coppers over, and
you'll keep your life, a worthy trade!”

He rolled his eyes and said, “my friends,
I've had enough of pointless fighting.
Stronger men have met their ends
by challenging my nimble blade.”

He drew his sword and in a breath
displayed the skill of elven masters.
Suddenly the thought of death
did overtake them, cold and grey.

So the bandits turned and ran
and as night fell, rode ever faster
hoping to outrun our man,
but caring not, he rode away.

2: Amidst the frigid mountain air,
our man found shelter in a quarry.
He set up his camp, but there
before him lurked a mighty foe.

As a castle, strong and tall
a giant stood in dreadful glory.
“Be you food, or be you thrall?”
It rumbled, menacing and low.

Our man looked up in grim delight
and drew his blade and stood defiant.
“Finally, a proper fight.”
He saw no danger, only pride.

And in a terrible attack
Our man cut down and killed the giant.
As it fell, there came a crack
of stone. The cave collapsed. He died.

3: A simple thing, as anyone
would know from living in the canyons,
is to look both up and down
when entering a cavern new.

But our man was not from here,
and had no mountainous companions,
so of course he'd disappear
beneath a cave-in. So would you!

If I may give some small advice
to all you swordsmen, rogues, and wizards:
fighting skill will not suffice
when journeying the mountains tall.
Watch your step and say your prayers
and when you hear the howling blizzards,
don't run into darkened lairs
without first checking if they'll fall.

 1: One summer, Thella-Lu
harbored a chieftain who
everyone quickly knew
as Vimak Seesfar.
Champions of drink-and-tell,
those who competed well
and even those who fell
met him soon after.
“I want the strongest and
fastest among the clans.
Out of the mountain-lands,
we shall endeavor.”
And at the summer's end,
the women and the men
Vimak recruited then
set off forever.

Did they discover the way to Kathalae?
Where did they go? How can we know?

2: One member did return,
sullen and taciturn,
speaking in grave concern
over the outcome.
Fields full of wild horses,
riches and resources,
terrible dark forces
guarded the valley.
“Do not pursue,” she said.
“Everyone there is dead.”
Those who fought, those who fled,
none were recovered.
How had she gotten free?
Who was the enemy?
She swore defiantly
never to tell them.

Could they go back, someday, to Kathalae?
She told them no. Please do not go.

3: Dreaming of riches and
seeking to claim the land,
Thella-Lu made demands
on the poor pilgrim.
Since she would not relent,
they came into her tent
spears ready to torment
her into speaking.
“There is nowhere to go,
no one to save you, so
tell us all that you know.”
She was surrounded.
And in the cold of night,
There in the fire-light,
Right in her captor's sight,
she simply vanished.

The traveler passed, away, in Kathalae,
long, long ago. But even so,
her spirit refused, to stay, in Kathalae,
and passed through Thella-Lu, on her way home.

1: Listen close and hear my song, and maybe you will know
the ways in which the dwarves went wrong, a-mining in the snow.
This tale depicts the starting and unfortunate decline
of an excavation effort for a vein of adamantine.

A pair of dwarves did venture to a peak so high and cold,
to start an excavation much more valuable than gold.
They had a simple scheme, a very elegant design:
a heretofore unclaimed deposit... of pure adamantine.

Their hands were on their mining picks, they marvelled at the sight
of metal boldly gleaming in the walls in the starlight.
The picks were raised, the dwarf-gods praised, and there within the mine,
one dwarf struck down the other over precious adamantine.

The mining pick was bloody and a dwarf lay on the floor,
his murderer above him, madly staring at the ore.
And with his dying breath, the victim swore a curse divine:
upon his gods, both men would die, pursuing the adamantine.

2: The killer grasped his axe and started swinging at the wall,
but all his mighty swinging made no difference at all.
Determined not to fail, he swung until he saw sunshine,
and in the daylight found one tiny piece of adamantine.

His greed was not permitting him to give up on the wealth.
Conceding and submitting? No, he'd give up on his health.
So bleeding from his fingertips and aching in his spine,
proceeding to his death, he toiled for the adamantine.

The thought of gold propelled him, as the corpse grew slowly frosted,
and uncontrolled, compelled him, until soon he fell, exhausted.
The two men lay upon the ground, their fates now intertwined,
and there they stayed til they were found, in the cave with the adamantine.

3: Akala-tor the Speaker found the two men in the cave,
their av'rice having driven them to make this place their grave.
Although the miners' fate was oh-so-clearly asinine,
respectfully she moved them from the cave with the adamantine.

She made a small memorial for the dwarves, a simple chore,
and then she chiseled all the frozen blood from off the floor.
Apologizing for her inattention to the shrine,
the Speaker then renewed her promise to the adamantine.

She carved the magic runes again, and strengthened them with gold,
to ward the stone from dwarf, and man, and giant, and kobold.
She stayed a while to reassure the cave that it was fine,
and after that no miners scarred the precious adamantine.

Perhaps if you have listened well and are a clever lot,
you'll realize the lesson that the mining dwarves forgot.
That if it is a Stonespeaker to whom it is consigned,
then keep on seeking, o seeker, for different adamantine.

 1: Thavius Kreeg was filled with dread, his
city fighting the undead. The
man himself had taken over
for the old High Overseer,

who it turned out had conspired
with a legion of vampires.
Things in Elturel were dire,
that much was extremely clear.

From his chamber looking outward,
Thavius Kreeg was gripped by fear
and he was a nervous pee-er.

2: With his face all wet from crying,
and his trousers hung and drying,
Kreeg called out in desperation,
making up a foolish prayer.

"Someone, anyone, appear, if
my pathetic cries you hear," he
trembled, and he was sincere in
all his dismal, damp despair.

In a flash of blazing fire,
Archduke Zariel was there. His
pee was vapor in the air.

3: Over Elturel, a sphere of
radiant white began to sear the
crawling dead to ashen cinders.
The Companion, it was named.

Kreeg had never seen such burning,
and it set his stomach churning.
Zariel set off returning
back to hell, from whence she came.

No one saw him retching, heaving,
at the sight of holy flame. For
years, no one knew his shame.

4: Decades passed, and Kreeg's lament had
rendered him incontinent. Bad
tidings came to him in dreams, he
relived what the devil stated.

"We shall forge, this day, a pact. For
this, your will I shall enact, and
in a time of fifty years exactly,
will the scales be weighted."

Thus the cost of Kreeg's decision:
knowing that his doom was fated
and his bedsheets desecrated.

 1: On the road from Baldur's Gate
The devil and his knights
Set up an ambush and did wait
For prey to come in sight.
His men were ready, confident
And ready for a fight,
But didn't know the opponent
Would have a Divine Smite.

2: The devil gave a nasty sneer
Fangs shining in moonlight,
And everyone around could hear
The paladin recite:
"Y'all should not have come 'round here,
You know it just ain't right."
And then the devil shook with fear,
To feel his Divine Smite.

3: The knights were felled, the devil's face
Was twisted into fright.
In terror from the holy grace
He panicked and took flight.
He flew away at fastest pace
And flew at highest height,
But still, the paladin gave chase
To bring him Divine Smite.

4: The devil darted through the trees
And shadows of the night.
The paladin pursued with ease
And kept just out of sight.
The devil called for mercy, "please
Allow me some respite!"
This meager cry did not appease
The vengeant holy knight,
So he was scattered to the breeze
By crushing Divine Smite.