Dungeon Master Forum

Well, atm I'm on a laptop in a lesson, and it's not on the college network so I can't access my story. So instead, I've started on something I'd been meaning to do for a while - write some poems.
Here is my first offering. If you like it, I can (and probably will) write some more. If you have any ideas of something you'd like a poem about, let me know .



Endless Dark

Slowly, steadily, silently you go,
Into the depths, beyond that which you know.
The realm before you, endless dark,
To every sound that comes, you hark.
Blackness comes to steal your sight,
Banished only by magic light.

The walls stretch on, they have no end,
Terror threatens from round every bend.
The silence falls like an unseen weight
Between your footfalls as you go to your fate.
But then an echo comes to your ears,
The sound of footsteps and a reason for your fears.

Slowing, you tense, prepared for battle.
Was it a rustle, a clank, or a rattle?
Hard to tell, and hard to see,
You may fight or find you have to flee.
But the sound has come from beyond the walls,
Further away down these dark halls.

The distant sound had faded now,
But you’ll hear it again, you know, somehow.
Always these sounds, these walls, this dark,
And every now and then, a mark
Of creatures dark, of terrors unknown,
Born from the seeds of Chaos sown.

Yet worse than the creatures,
Worse than the walls,
Worse than the distant, haunting calls,
This endless dark, the blackness ahead,
Behind, around, as you turn your head.
The darkness may hide things and let them come near,
Yet it isn’t the creatures of Chaos you fear.

For worse than whisper, worse than growl,
Worse than grunt or distant howl,
Worse than rattle, roar, or bark,
It stretches onward, endless dark.

I'm impressed.

me too... stunned.. awesome job

Lol really? Wasn't exactly hard to do...I'll do some more if you like then eh? I'd already written a load of EQ poems a few months ago and posted 'em up on my guild website (over half of which were requests once I'd posted the first couple which were just done on a whim and at random), and recently I thought "Hmm, why don't I do some DM poems too?". I was thinking of doing, like, biographies for the characters in my story, the memories they've mostly-lost through their reincarnation. I've also done Fippy and Ameena (edited Wuuf and Hissssa, really) in Paintbrush. They're different, but still recognisable.
Anyway, back to poems...I'll probably start writing a poem for all the mobs I can think of a poem for. Which would be all of them if I could be arsed to do them all. And I might do one or two on regular things that seem to happen with newbies to DM...like running into a mob or six and having to frantically run away and then get lost and crash into walls and fireball themselves and stuff .
But anyway...the story is still going, too...Still on level three, and still in the first trial. But I haven't worked on it since Monday, so...
Oh, and thanks for liking my poem .

I really like it...very emotive going for the dark as the subject : ) Please. more! More!

Alright then, here's another one for you .
Hope you enjoy and let me know if you want any more...I'm still working on the story too but no ETA yet for when I finish Level Three, seeing as other than a vague idea of stuff I want to happen, I make the rest up as I go along .



The Deepest Dungeon

Far below the mirrored halls,
Deep below, within the walls,
The deepest dungeon, where death lingers,
And ash lies strewn, like trailing fingers.

Deep down, so deep you cannot know,
Deeper than the bravest go,
Deeper than the ghosts so chill
And black knights with their evil will.
Deeper even than the lord
Of Chaos, with his demon horde.

Down in the deepest, darkest room,
In the death-filled lair,
Surrounded by his victims cold,
A fearful beast dwells there.

Hard of hide, and red of scale,
Sharp of tooth and long of tail,
Master of such fiery breath
As brings great heroes quick to death.
Wanderer of cavern great,
An endless hunger he seeks to sate.

For should you come near, should you dare
To place your feet upon the stair,
Should you descend to this place,
This wicked danger must you face.

He dwells within his lair of stone,
He wanders freely, but alone,
Surrounded by his victims’ bones,
Remembering their dying groans.
This place is his, so why enrage
This mighty creature of such an age?

Ah, but see, he guards not just
The bones and ash and mess.
The remnants of his killing lust,
He guards the key to success.

These would be great as hints in RTC's Hint Oracle, though I think it's limited to only a few lines. Hints for DM were one of the things I was working on waaaaaay back but never finished them...

Yeah I'm looking forward to the very very unlikely day that I will actually finish a dungeon so I can then mess around and make my own hints. Apart from poems and stories, riddles are another thing I love - both writing them and solving them. I even held a riddle-quiz once in EQ, and I've still got 'em all written down somewhere if anyone's interested in having a go...

yeah, post the riddle-quiz, sounds interesting!

As per request from Beowuuf, a poem about that mightiest of dungeon forces...



Spanning from the ceiling
To the dungeon floor,
Lies that greatest of all barriers,
The mighty dungeon door.

Some are metal, some are magic,
Some are made of wood,
Some have buttons, some have keyholes,
But all open, as they should.

They bar your way, they let you pass,
They open and they close,
But all have stories, all have lives
In ways nobody knows.

For instance, in a crowded place,
A buttoned door's great might
Is used against mean monsters and
Negates the need to fight.

And then, perhaps, there are the doors
That need a key to open,
But till it's found, they see and hear
Too many curse words spoken.

And other doors are hard to find,
And wait there hours long,
Until at least they creak and grind,
Singing their opening song.

The lives of doors are hard to know,
For though they ever stay,
No-one bothers to sit around
And see what comes their way.

The doors, they do lead lonely lives,
Until a party finds them,
But soon, too soon, they're done and passed,
And no-one further minds them.

But are they bothered? Do they care?
It's not our place to tell,
For back the way we've long since come,
In places not known well,
The doors, they close, forgotten now,
And grind their farewell knell.

just to ressurect your other poems aswell as add one of my own. Like the first verse (kinda), but don't like the second one (since i had to ape the first one!)

Mummies and Armours

Howling loud, tall and proud
Wrapping slip, snap and whip
A gaping maw, protracted jaw
Distracts from black, staring back
The sockets dead, but deep there's red
A hungry glow, eyes of a foe
Whose touch is death, your life its breath
Will steal your soul, an endless goal
To earn its peace, its hunger cease
One stolen second, a balance reckoned
'Gainst evil done, beneath a sun
That set a thousand years ago

Clanking demon, passed all reason
Fear forsaken, memories taken
Breaks the silence, personified violence
Seeks the living, unforgiving
Form now gone, armour doned
The only clue, to hatred brewed
Against the few, who make it through
To deepest reaches, final breaches
Of their master, drives them faster
Two swords slice, protections dice
With eyesless glee, watch bravest free
Another party blocked below

Nah that's a cool poem . It's cool just to bung in a bunch of long, descriptive words that manage to rhyme lol...makes the poem sound more...erm...thingy...

poemy? goldy? bashed out quickly? : )

ROFL Beo, I just noticed what you've changed your title to...

: ) did it yesterday, the powers of admin! : )

Alrighty then...Beo knew this was coming...omg it's half past three...okay so that took about an hour I think...
Oh, and apologies for the crappiness of the title...couldn't think of anything better at the time and just wanted to get on with it


The Hall of Champions

Entombed within the walls of stone,
Imprisoned behind glass,
Two dozen heroes trapped there are,
As many ages pass.

A warrior born of the east,
Where he would proudly wander.
His clothes are simple, long sword sharp,
His eyes seem ever yonder.

Another human, strong and bold,
Dressed in blue and chain.
In every craft he has some skill,
Yet much more skill to gain.

Now a woman, dark of hair,
Who bears a lunar stone.
She has some skill in magic arts,
In spells made to be thrown.

Strong and sure, with arrows sharp
This priest and fighter stands.
Though he seems a fighting type,
He has a healer’s hands.

Short in stature, sharp in mind,
Eyes bright and pale his hair.
Quite a wizard, as his name,
Lucky token he does bear.

Clothed quite shady, wears a hood,
Hands fast, yet eyes move quicker.
Not spells does he prefer to throw,
But items – few are slicker.

Old and whitened, robed in blue,
He has a kindly face.
Perhaps the future he can see,
The fate of every race.

Not a mammal, cold of blood,
With scales ever agleam.
With weapons or without he fights,
A hiss but not a scream.

Robed in darkness, cloaked in night,
His eyes shine out strange red.
With magic he prefers to fight,
And cast his foes down dead.

With flame-red hair she stands so proud,
A fighter on all levels.
She’ll swing a sword or hurl a knife,
And fight like thirty devils.

Stealthy, swift and cunning too,
Her magic lacks in power.
Agility with rope her strength,
She’ll scale the highest tower.

Healthy, hearty, cheerful too,
Also bears some food.
His beaming smile a healer’s grin,
His language never rude.

Furred and sharp-eyed, nose so keen,
With ears made just for hearing.
When this canine enters battle,
His enemies start fearing.

Short but sturdy, built to fight,
Great beard of shining yellow.
Roaring does he wield his axe,
And seldom does he mellow.

Born to fight, his hair flows red,
His beard and moustache long,
He’ll wield a sword, an axe, a mace,
And right what once went wrong.

Strong in arm, with strength to throw,
And armed with daggers two,
Her armour made from creature hide,
From prey that she once slew.

A shaggy creature, towers tall,
An easy beast to find.
But do not underestimate,
He does not lack in mind.

From distant lands, she’s come afar,
Her name may bring confusion.
Yet to her foes she’ll bring her spells,
And leave them in delusion.

Her magic great, her body slight,
Though short, her mind is strong.
Though weapons sharp may bring her down,
Her magic’s seldom wrong.

His eyes hold fury, muscles bulge,
He may seem quite untamed,
Yet loose him upon foes galore,
And it’s they who’ll be shamed.

Elven female, clad in green,
Her eyes, they match this hue.
Her vision sharp, her mind alert
For every slightest clue.

Black and golden is his robe,
His grey beard ever flowing,
His priestly skills beyond all doubt,
His mind is ever-knowing.

Not so tall, but ready still,
With fingers deft and quick.
The poisoned darts he bears aloft,
He throws them with a trick.

Agile, deft, and swift to move,
His elven eyes are keen.
The bow he wields is ever-strung,
His body clothed in green.

Twenty-four they number strong,
Though only four may go.
Only four may enter in,
And face the things below.

You are too good to be that fast! Gald you did this rather than D2 : )
Love it!

wow!

ALL of the champions! That's totally awesome. Very nice, Ameena. It's clear without being dull who each of the characters are, and I like that.

Well, I was gonna put their names in, but after doing one or two I realised I wouldn't be, since it was easy enough to make it obvious who I was talking about - anyone who knows enough about DM should be able to recognise each description withouth having to check various character stats/portraits/inventories .

Exactly. I think it is a lot better without the names in it. Great work Ameena!

Done another one!


The Minions of Chaos

Venture down and start your quest,
Deep down into the gloom,
To meet the minions of your foe,
Who plots and plans your doom.

A walking soul, perhaps a man,
His wrappings faded, old.
His only urge to hiss and claw
With bandaged fingers cold.

A foe not fauna, short in height
Will try to break your ears.
A simple food your simple prize
From this, your least of fears.

Blue and angry, green of foot,
With simple minds and faces.
Their clubs they swing to harm and crush,
To slay all other races.

Possessing poison, fangs and more,
Slow crawls this pile of stone.
Its damage great when it attacks,
It has no flesh or bone.

Purple foe with poison fangs,
It crawls the dungeon floor.
Its tiny arms are laughable,
Its flesh is very poor.

Its wings abuzz, its sting held poised,
It flits the dungeon halls.
Its strikes are swift, its strength is weak,
Too easily it falls.

A spirit old, all solid flesh
Has gone in ages past.
Intangible it now does float,
Seeking peace at last.

Slimy fiend of green and blue,
Its tentacles a-waving.
Green poison bolts it hurls and spits,
As foes it’s ever craving.

With scales of green and darkest black,
With wings that flit and fly.
Its sharpened fangs drip poison strong,
Its will and way is sly.

Eyes aplenty, spells it knows,
For lightning oft it calls.
Behind a door you are not safe
Until this creature falls.

No flesh it has, no flesh it needs,
No skin, no brain, no blood.
For wielding sword and shield aloft,
In great numbers they flood.

Though some move not until you take
The item of your quest,
Though they are slow, their blows are death,
So leaving swift is best.

Running quickly, little man
Will grab the sword you treasure.
Off he runs, but then returns,
And then is killed with pleasure.

Hairy beast of claw and tooth,
Low but growling loudly.
Edible their limbs so short,
Which carried them so proudly.

Short and clad in dull brown cloak,
Casting spells and curses,
For knowledge have they of the runes,
Of incantations, verses.

Oddly-shaped with green moustache,
It fights with little sound.
With yellow toes and blue-tipped tail,
Its body near the ground.

Arthropod, arachnid too,
With pincers and huge sting.
When it attacks, the poison comes,
And its snarl fear does bring.

Moving puddle, living water,
Seeks out things to slay.
It splashes high and then back down
As it attacks its prey.

Moving armour, wielding swords,
Double death it slashes.
Yet nothing fills its armoured form,
Not even dust and ashes.

With spindly, angled, spike-toed legs,
This screeching beast approaches.
Seldom alone, it swiftly comes
When prey nearby encroaches.

Intertwining strands of brown,
The globe atop shines blue.
Not made of substance physical,
Knows spells of every hue.

Deep below the deepest room,
The guardian awaits.
Many who have sought the gem
Have come to fiery fates.

Flaming, writhing, trapped within
A seething, boiling pit.
This living flame, it cannot move,
And is not hard to hit.

Pacing round the chamber great,
They guard their master’s being.
With tentacles and magic fires
They send their victims fleeing.

Cloaked in grey, with horns atop
His red-eyed, mighty head,
He rules the dungeon, rules them all,
Those minions of such dread.

Yet though these creatures have such strength,
And though they may bring fear,
If the balance you wish to bring,
Then you must persevere!

Wow I really liked all of them

This is fantastic, as always : )

Most of them not only rhyme but also have a nice rhythmic pattern. Do you study poetry, or just go by ear?

Nope I don't study poetry...We had to look at a few poems in English at school, during GCSE and stuff, but I never specifically studied poetry. I attribute my wordweaving to erm...about 18 or so years of reading books and thus being familiar enough with the English language to have built up a suitable vocabulary in order to basically just think of a rhyme for loads of words as I bung 'em together with a bit of a rhythm.
Something like that anyway .

Another one for you!


The Sleep of the Power Gem

Encased it is, it sleeps in fire
That burns within, an inner pyre.
Held by roots of magic strong,
Yet not in this place does it belong,
Its only companions its fiery glow,
The darkness and the guardian of below.

With silent power does it await
The touch of wizard’s magic great,
To free it from the grip so strong
That has held it for years so long.
A simple spell can set it free,
For more than this it longs to see.

More than stony, cold, dead walls,
More than hungry dragon calls,
More than constant, endless wait
For magic’s touch, to seal its fate.
Deep down it knows its future lies
Amidst battle, death, pained cries.

For it does know its true position,
Lies at the heart of a fearful mission
To cleanse the world of Chaos pure,
To heal the world, provide the cure.
Its place belongs atop the staff
Which without its power forms less than a half.

So close to the foe it must destroy,
While nearby the dragon with bones does toy.
Bones of victims long unknown,
Slain by evil powers shown.
Their lives destroyed, their bodies dust,
Yet end the chaos, someone must.

And it lies there, awaiting them,
Since ages past, the Power Gem.


Gonna run out of DM subjects to do eventually lol...I suppose I'll switch to CSB when that happens, but will do DM to death first .

Nah, there's so much to do in DM...you can do Vexirks, then how cute Vexirks are, then why everyone must sing 'dink dink' when they see Vexirks, then why they can be annoying, then why it's cute when they are annoying, then why they have those red eyes, then why those lil red eyes are so cute...

And that's just Vexirks!

Hi. I'm not nearly as good as Ameena, but I thought I'd just add something I wrote for a dungeon once...Here goes....

Within the darkness of Evil
Through the shadows of time
What once was free,
will soon become mine.

With the power of the ages,
and magic unheard,
I've conjured an army
to release on your world.

The door to Skullkeep
Is open once more
awaiting four souls
which I will add to my own.

This door that you enter
will seal itself shut
There will be no escape
My labyrinth awaits.....

Lord Chaos.

Sing "dink dink"? Why do they have to do that then, lol? 'Cause they're dinky?