The Duel Arena (Poem)


 * Blood and dust filled the Al Kharid air,
 * A place more dangerous than a dragon’s lair,
 * Where humanity’s horror was laid bare,
 * To the sound of great drums and glorious fanfare.


 * The Duel Arena rested amongst the sand.
 * Many a warrior came to try his hand,
 * Bringing all the skill that they could command.
 * Indeed, all of their deaths were grand.


 * The greatest of these was the Blade;
 * He was a power that would never fade.
 * Into great battles he would wade,
 * Yet none could touch him as he prayed.


 * Out would go his great and mighty sword;
 * It was an instrument from which not music but blood poured,
 * And what it stole was worth more than a gem hoard,
 * For the Death Song was the Blade’s favorite chord.


 * Then finally the big desert sun would set,
 * The warriors could go and forget their sweat,
 * Yet the warrior named the Blade tarried yet,
 * He was stuck in this Arena, to his regret;
 * He was in love with the deadly Warrior’s Duet.