3. A Poetic Challenge

A Poetic Challenge

  • Peltarch Far Scouts

    parchment is scattered throughout Peltarch and posted where ever poems of the Shadow poet can be found…. quite usually over top, blatantly covering the works.

    _This Shadow person
    Such a wretched poet
    Not a drop of talent
    And I think he knows it

    No creativity
    No flair
    Nothing interesting
    Nothing there

    I’m the Mockingbird
    I’m the very best
    Stop your pathetic efforts
    Just give it a rest

    You can’t replace me
    You can try if you wish
    Your poetry is only good
    For wrapping up fish

    There is only one way
    To show yourself supreme
    An honorable poet’s duel
    You know what I mean

    You get the first strike
    By midnight tonight
    Or simply do not reply
    And forfeit your fight

    Yours truly,
    The Mockingbird_


  • _"Socks, wooly socks, nothing but the furry socks
    In this bleak closet, and solitude, and me
    Remembering again that I shall die
    And neither feel the socks nor give it thanks
    For warming my feet more then they have ever been
    Since I was born into this solitude.

    Blessed are the dead that the socks sit upon:
    But here I pray that none whom once I loved
    Is dying tonight or lying still awake
    Solitary, without socks on,

    Either in pain or thus in sympathy
    Helpless among the living and the dead
    like a wooly sock among dirty underpants,
    Myriad of dirty underpants all still and stiff,

    Like me who has no love which this wooly sock
    Has not warmed except the love of death,
    If love it be towards what is perfect and
    Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint."_

    • ShadowKobold

  • _There are no more poems from Tonks at this point

    Rumors goes that since the tekst regarding "Finky" Tonks has locked himself in a closet in the theater, and is only occasional seen skulking around after dark wearing a towel to cover his privates.

    Crayons and milk has gone missing, and outside his closet a highly unusual number of empty bottles is scattered.

    When people catches him, he mostly ignore them sighing dramatically and sulking while muttering words such as "This little spot" rubbing his hands.

    Other has found crayon drawings that has fallen under the gap under the door of odd colourful doodles, which Tonks explains is images of is inner agony and beast._

  • S

    _Agreed
    A pointless egocentric trip
    Apologies
    To one and all
    I came here not to bury Peltarch
    In meaningless poetical infighting
    I came here to Praise it
    I came here to enlighten
    To shine a light in darker corners
    To voice one mans opinion of what he saw
    And learnt
    And felt
    About a place that sits high in his heart.

    My own anger
    I am only human after all
    Blinded me
    Peltarch is more than any one voice
    Poetics and politics
    Suddenly they mirrored
    Which is not the point
    And never was
    I sat and thought both long and hard
    Before I answered to the call
    Before I took up the challenge
    And the choice I made was wrong
    Forgive me.

    Detachment
    So important
    In any commentator
    And dark communicator
    Was lost
    And so for now
    I set my quill aside
    I twist and turn within
    But find not the balance
    I would need
    To carry on
    Until I do
    Farewell, beloved Peltarch._

    The Shadow Poet


  • One more goes up, around the others…all of which are torn down if they are near the theater...it seems a strange tune, a bit odd yet more advanced phoentically, and definitly has a bit of an annoyed edge to it. Unlike the others however, the name of the bard is easily seen at the bottom in flowing script

    @22edfc4a26:

    See, I came here to end this battle tonight
    lets start this fight
    And if you refuse to reveal your face
    then i'll show them mine
    Cause I'm tired of watching this without
    at least stating my side
    So all the poets in the shadows, all you little birdy yappers
    listen well one time.

    Turn your eyes now to the blue bard
    Listen well, hear the words spoke by the blue bard
    Come on now, here we go
    word slingin, its another bard swingin
    got you thinkin what'll he say now
    hear me clear.

    Step up, mouth off, get mad, they win
    Have to show these lyricists what'll come in the end.
    Smooth poems, sweet words, thats how you begin.
    Now look what they've got us doing within.
    You gotta think, before you ever go to jump in
    what good were these poems meant to be doing again?
    You're mad, so you focus on eachother not the bad
    and once you do, you can't go back, you've been had.

    You're off your target now, the point is just beyond you.
    I am here to help, to guide, to re-align you.
    You had such talent, then you let your pride blind you.
    Ones you used to write against pointin' and laughin' behind you.
    You must stop the bitchin'and moanin', start thinkin and listin'.
    Open your mind, observe, you'll see it if you pay attention
    why the two of you must work together and lose the aggression.
    Us bards, we're here to pull this city up, not cause its destruction'

    So lets just choose to end this battle this night
    lets change our sight
    And if your eyes can't see our enemies
    then your both just blind.
    Cause we have problems in this city that
    no one can deny
    So just forget hiding poets, leave alone yapping birdies and
    we'll be just fine.

    Zyphlin Re'cual


  • The Shadow and the Mockingbird, fighting for the crown
    One is a Queen, but each is a clown
    Wrapped up in riddles, till neither can see
    The dawn breaks upon them and each has to flee

    For no Shadow lingers in the rays of the sun
    And the bird of the night must return to her nest
    A battle won and lost before its even begun
    For its clear in the morning which poet is the best

    All hail to the King! May his reign ever Rock!
    At long last, one Wise in the in the value of a sock.

    <draconic>Love of my Life, I shall wait, as i must
    <draconic>And I shall see you again…

    <draconic>When they grind you to dust.

    Love,

    Finky

    Attempts to scry this parchment result in an image of a sexy kobold in lacy pink lingere</draconic></draconic></draconic>

  • S

    In the Usual Places

    _Gentle reproof, I understand
    But battle was not my demand.
    I came not seeking fight or feud
    Came to embrace, not exclude.

    And yet if battle must be joined
    And battle lyrics must be coined
    Then so be it, bring it on
    I fear no drifting night birds song.

    A mockingbird, so truly named
    And mocking me? Who could be blamed?
    I wandered in where once was one
    Came to enlighten, not for fun.

    Wrapping fish, what should I say
    At least it would get read that way
    I think I’ll simply let that pass
    Since most use yours to wipe their arse.

    And so to the brunt of any fight
    Some words to see if you take flight
    I’m sure that you will bear them well
    And thankfully, your noises quell.

    A mockingbird, you call yourself
    I raise a cup to your good health
    And with a flourish take a bow
    As you waddle off like a pregnant cow.

    I understand, you’d like me gone
    So mindless drivel can carry on
    With words all rushed out, in a spurt
    To think so slow makes my head hurt.

    You know, I’d gladly cede the town
    To you, you feckless, frump-faced clown
    It never was a tricky task
    It only needed you to ask.

    Although you know, it seems a pity
    To take either of us from the City
    I've seen the people, seen them sweat
    They need all the help that they can get._

    The Shadow Poet


  • _They call Peltarch jewel of the Icelace,
    and ShaowKobold think Peltarch very very very funny place
    and got intresting things to sell,
    though Peltarch sort of smell,
    but you can probably tell.

    If Peltarch really be a jewel ShadowKobold would put in collection,
    of shiny shiny shiny things and those that give of a reflection,
    but Peltarch really mostly made of rock,
    and not quite as interesting as that of a sock,
    but you got a dock.

    For lament, sorrow, kismet and other fancy words,
    I write for you Peltarch home of people and birds,
    and some trees, and lamps and benches,
    and pretty smelling people and even more stenches,
    and flying sewer rats,
    and wild cats.

    ShadowKobold is my name,
    this I say without a shame,
    and you see I am best,
    for I can write better then all the rest,
    you are impressed._


  • Three notes are tacked beside three random poems throughout the city.

    @813cb8e416:

    _You guys
    Posting poems
    in disguise, ~

    And now, a little fight,
    Bardic duel, ~
    looks like
    you got rhymes to write;

    The shadow-poet thinks;
    he knows so much,
    The mocking-bird still; ~
    hasn't lost it's touch,

    The shadow-poet thinks:
    he's so damn clever, ~
    The scryers'll snuff him out;
    who cares? Whatever;

    You guys
    Posting poems ~
    in disguise,
    The mocking-bird's rhymes, the shadow-poet's lies,
    A clash of egos, wow, it's hard on the eyes;

    Life hard without a single friend? ~
    Use a 'slick' nickname-
    -I'll remember you then.

    (I'm no better,
    A signature's something
    you won't find ~~
    on this letter.)

    Who's to blame for the littered Peltarchian walls;
    A poet who can't step up, maybe grow some balls?
    Silly shadow-poet, thinking your so sly,
    Poor little guy, your just a little shy. ~

    You guys
    Posting poems
    in disguise,
    A false name, your behalf; ~
    Yeah I notice you, you make me laugh._

    **Not really yours at all,

    ~Raven King.**