This tale is about a jaunt to Silent Moons,
fraught with peril and certain doom.
With fire and arrows in the midst of noon,
death and horror, and mudcrabs too.
Out from Whiterun we gallivanted
when to the north our path was slanted
collecting souls to enchant my blades
'twas elk and skeevers and wolves we braved.
(Any more than this I hadn't the will,
grinding enchantment is a fucking pill.)
So off I stomped like Malacath's wife
wasting the critters in my elvish sight.
Fireballs flew making caribou stew,
blasting to ashes both ram and ewe-
I suppose I should mention I was with Lydia too,
but she was bored to tears.
She carried the gems with a bitch and a whine,
cursing old Balgruff for making her mine.
"Just a few more hours and then we'll be fine!"
I tossed her some skooma to help pass the time.
We wandered north in a purple haze
when a ruin before me met my gaze,
I saw man so I thought I'd say hi
until a bandit's arrow whizzed past my eye!
Lydia screamed, "Look out, my thane!"
unsheathing the sword we'd just found in a lake;
she ran like the wind and my fireball raced
as he shit his bricks and I blew off his face.
Lydia swung for his buddies and pressed the attack
as I bullied their mages with a thunderous crack,
but in the midst of it all I heard a howl from out back
and a shadow cast over the battle.
The bandits scattered as a blizzard rained down,
their eyes all teary, their trousers brown.
I was ignored for the moment as the dragon touched ground
and froze those bandits solid.
Lydia, too high to know any better
whacked at the dragon as it shouted its letters,
her puny arms left its hide unfettered
and it smacked her square in the jaw.
"MA-MA!" shrieked the bandits as they died two at once.
"I YIELD!" screamed the housecarl as she kneeled like a dunce.
The dragon took off with my flames at his rump-
and then the mudcrabs came.
For me or the dragon?
for both they were!
Two factions of crabs
and the tide was turned!
One half fell to icy breath
and the other fuckers burned to death-
but it wasn't over
oh not by a shot.
For in came the giants-
Enraged.
At a trot.
Their mammoths too, with a trumpet of war,
set the tundra a'quake like a great summer storm.
They swung for the dragon but it took to the sky,
my new allies were waylaid by the beast from on high!
Magic streaked from my fingers as I ran to their aid,
Lydia outran me in the move that we played
and our new friends were focused on the aerial raid.
Our presence seemed welcome, and we shared the grass,
until a mammoth was furied with a shot to the ass!
High as a kite the bint shot him again,
and thus we were fought from the sky
and the fen.
They knocked her out cold
and then I was alone
against blizzards
and mammoths
and hammers of stone.
What mudcrabs were left
they too nipped at my heels
as the stampede pursued me
and they were trampled and squealed.
I ran up the stairs of Silent moons
twas a bottleneck of rage in the late afternoon.
The dragon descended-
a foolhardy move!
It was beat to a pulp
and I shot at it too.
I showered them all 'till the dragon was dead
and then dove for its soul through a river of red.
I dodged and I shot and I roasted with rage,
hiding for a moment in a small stony cage.
With my magicka charged I made one final flight,
and on a pile of mammoths
I ended the fight.
A harrowing day we spent near death,
numerous moments could been our last breath.
If not for my fire the fight would have caught us-
Sovngarde would have had us much earlier on.
We collected our spoils, and then stopped for a moment,
I opened my menu and looked at the page.
I was aghast and I laughed like a moron,
because after all I was not a not a new mage.
A few fury spells would have been much better mayhem,
save us some trouble with a magical rage.
At the end of it all, beyond the confusion,
I'd neglected to recall that I'd mastered illusion…..