One inspiration, just followed another. First the making of my first little person, and second, his saga, which seemed to practically write itself. Every kingdom needs a hero, and every kingdom, needs a good king.
Doesn't he look splendid, in his velvet coat, and knee breaches?!
A Knight In Gomber
The story is told, of a bold Knight of old,
Who rode a great steed, but was lost one fine day.
For he went to hunt Dragons, having sipped a few flagons,
At the sign of the Grey Boar, an Inn on his way.
Well the road passed a forest, the blackest and surest,
To hold in a dragon, he said o’er his ale.
I’ll go forth to meet it, and boldly defeat it,
I carry this sword, so I surely won’t fail.
Among those who sat there, one cunning and fat pair,
Derided the Knight and his bold claim of worth.
They dared him to do it, to get up and go to it,
Tho others cried out, he should give it wide berth.
As one ever fearless, the Knight who was peerless,
Went out and took up the reins of his horse.
With a smile in his manner, he took up his banner,
Then went on his way, with a chuckle of mirth.
Now the knaves who had waited, and cunningly baited,
The Knight, so they might, steal the spoils of his purse.
Followed right after, tho who was the dafter?!
The Knight with the smile, or the two with the girth?!
They watched in the distance, one hung back with resistance,
When just as he said, the Knight entered the Wood.
The one who was bolder, wouldn’t live to be older,
For he was incautious, a fool from birth.
He sneered at his fellow, said, “You are just yellow!”
Then followed the Knight, on his path through the Wood.
But, “Something,” was waiting, the sound of teeth grating,
A torn shriek of terror, then death where he stood.
He was killed in a minute, devoured like a linnet,
His shriek cut off short, like the newly mown hay.
The creature that took him, just cruelly shook him,
Gulped a great gulp, and then went on its way.
Weeping with horror, his heart ever sourer,
The knave that was left, then fled back to the Inn.
And there ever after, he gave up all laughter,
A monk he became, and repented his sin.
Thus started the story, that began so gory,
That Regi the Knight, for it surely ‘twas he.
Had died there in Gomber, swore locals most somber,
For Drako had seen it, and so it must be.
Yet they were mistaken, tho his heart was shaken,
Regi did not, meet the fate that they thought.
He’d fled from the creature, with terrible feature,
For it was but Nagul, the knave, who’d been caught.