Grunok has noticed
a rather strange phenomenon lately - every newbie she has talked to
seems to have disappeared! (Note Artimidor: Now let's just assume
that Grunok isn't directly involved in these mysterious
disappearances...) At any rate these circumstances inspired her to
write a poem about these circumstances - so let's hear it!
I have dwelt too long by the Thaehelvil
I have knelt too long on the Horn Plains
I have lingered there near the Paelelon
I’ve been delving deep into Ring caves
But I now return and they all have flown -
Where have all our newbies gone?
O Arin of the Rubyvine
(I was inspired to draw it)
His Worm is lonely in its cave
The Cliffs are fogged before it
Ciosa has no Rest to find
So long as it’s out of Woodwealth’s mind.
Kelancey of the lovely Bones
And phitlers, steams and potions
Our Body Parts we cannot name
Our surgeons have no notion
Of what to use to heal our Ills
The Green man’s caught, perhaps, a Chill?
The easel stands, a lonely sight
Since Sabelwolffe has gone
Drucilla’s Guard has lost his fight
The Wison is forlorn
To where has that fair artiste passed?
It’s been long months ere I saw her last.
Barrurbeleth still haunts these halls
His footstep’s music lingers
But his voice, it seems, is stole away
His pen has dropped from his fingers
Arceon please, we miss your words
Which seldom lately have been heard.
Kings of the North received their due
From Trelstahl’s expert pen
But this Newcomer’s left us too
And left enshrouded Raevalem
Which we had lately hoped to see
This masterwork is not to be?
Our newest Melor promised things
Of great and and wond’rous merit
Melancholy her absence brings
Oh, no, I cannot bear it
As Eoranna’s parting leaves
A hole where Kokdar should have been.
Of Wolves and Canines he is fond
And so we say, most thankfully
That he has yet to stray beyond
The kennel in our bestiary
How we’ve kept him I cannot say
But loyal our ‘Dog-boy’, Garret, stays.
Comments unread and threads un-blarrowed
Who calls them all away?
Plants untended and places untravelled
Oh why could they not stay?
Books unwritten and bodies unlabelled
My stink, perhaps, has grown…?
These spells uncast and songs unheard
Our newbies all have flown.
With out your work we cannot grow
We love you all and miss you so!
Additional verses for others are welcome!