Wicked
The Strife Arena proved to be,
Quite daunting for dear Trixie.
She arrived within the dead of night,
And felt diminished by her height.
…
The guards, they laughed, and chortling, said,
"Little girl, go off to bed."
"This ain't a simple game we play,
Now tawdle off, be on your way."
…
Trixie stood there, in the cold,
And from what details I've been told,
Smirked like a Dharkwave, unafraid,
As mischief she began to crave.
…
Guards cast aside like bowling pins,
Armour clinked like iron tins.
Some guards charged, were blown away,
And Trixie laughed at their display.
…
One guard remained, and being shrewd,
Apologized for being rude.
The gates were opened, tall and wide,
A Keeper stood there, mortified.
…
LexiKhan, was so named he,
And before him was the dear Trixie.
"Well?" she asked, "how was my fight?"
"Do I enter Trials of Strife?"
…
He gazed over the battleground,
No objection to be found.
"Well," he said, "this fight you won."
"Thus your training has begun."
…
This concludes my little tale,
So now I'll put on some chainmail.
Another training round's begun,
And Trixie wants to join the fun.