~Journey to Stormwind City~
Now it was a sunny day, as the band began to play
Some happy tunes two months before May
Reds, blues, purples, and yellows are scattered
Woman rush to hide eggs that had been colored
Now Noblegarden of Easter is a fun-filled time
All the races, for one day, abort their crimes
Among three cities, that all stand fair and true
There is only one that four can travel to
Now on this trip are four pilgrims who happen to be
Not exactly of the right compatibility
There’s the Blood Elf of Eversong Woods
She would glower all day if she could
A Night Elf of Teldrassil is of company too
He shoots off an arrow, fast and true
Worgen in wolf form, well from Gilneas
This journey she hopes to dearly cherish
The last in company is the least bit vile
A Pandren from the Wandering Isle
The four don’t recall how they came to be
Yet together they are, their story told by me
Blood Elves and Night Elves have distant relations
But their races come from the same creation
Once all in unity, they fought for freedom
Magic was what tore apart their kingdom
Blood Elves left and inhabited a great city
Silvermoon holds what they call clarity
The Blood Elf is ruthless, her sword longing to cut
Off the legs of her enemies, leaving them stuck
Green glowing eyes, they never stop searching
For their final target, her heart beyond hurting
Aching inside her, her flesh beats pure
But the arcane changed that, and there is no cure
Red hair straight, over her shoulders pulled back
She stands quite tall, her body nothing to lack
A pointed face, like a mongoose it is
Glaring back and forth, don’t give her a quiz
Knowledge bursts about her mind
And curiously it made a rather fun ride
When she didn’t banter with the old of her kind
She whispered stories that made us less blind
Virtue and honor she holds close to her heart
And all blame are to those she departs
Those, however, are left rather dead
Sometimes shoulders, feet, or even their head
Her soul is, I’m sorry to say
Tainted by evil to this very day
The Night Elf, like his brethren
Are the quiet type, now and again
When he did not snap at his distant sister
He would tend our formidable blisters
For fear of separation is something he had
And his claustrophobia was also quite bad
Of beetles and snakes and red paw bears
On the other hand his sister really didn’t care
A bow on his back and a quiver nearby
He was less likely to fight than to sit there and cry
A bowman he is and remains to be
Four foxes he shot from up in a tree
But when night rolled around
After the horses were tethered and bound
To be a watchman he was not to keen
Saying he preferred rather not to be seen
An argument broke out, between whom I’ll have you guess
It resulted in one night of sleeplessness
With pale blue skin and eyes for night
Not a movement slips past his sight
He does not speak knowledge to pass the time
Rather he glares at the Blood Elf for her “crime”
A noble Worgen is the third member
Her pain strikes a fearful ember
Struggles of memories will never leave her heart
She searches for a new way to start
After watching the downfall of her city
She chose a soul of sympathy and pity
No grudge she holds, she seeks those in need
And so far it’s something she succeeds
She’s traveled to every home
Of both ally and foe
She seeks to do good to amend what she lost
She left all bad behind, that was the only cost
Family and friends, partners in battle
Shivering tales that make your teeth rattle
It was a hostile time, I remember it well
If she will heal, only time is able to tell
Bravery and loyalty have kept her strong
I know happiness is where she belongs
A feud with the Blood Elves is what she should say
But she holds no anger, “they are not to blame”
She has a soul that is gold and pure
To forsake all evil she can assure
Leading the way, a lantern in his hand
The Pandaren from a mysterious land
He seeks no accompaniment, only peace
But it is not war he hates the least
When fire versus fire comes
Backing out he does not succumb
By the fierce of his hand and the keen of his eyes
What he despises most is chaos and lies
War and battle are nothing new for him
Most of his tactics are out on a whim
From power he comes and strong he is
Gifts of tranquility and agility are his
Old with years of knowledge and compassion
The four spirits rise forward to action
Water and fire, a breaking pair
Finally balanced by earth and air
Balance he learned since he was a youngling
The reason for his nature isn’t that puzzling
With a broad reed hat and kind brown eyes
He always ready to find a compromise
The four pilgrims spoke, as you well know
And when they arrived in the valley below
Stormwind City was laid out before them
They realized what they had to do then
While the Blood Elf and Night Elf argued a lot
Many things they eachother taught
The Worgen found love, what she was missing
And the stranger, Pandaren, was merely visiting
Each found something that completed their lives
Knowledge, traveling, or emotional ties
That was how Noblegarden came to an end
Four pilgrims from afar made lifelong friends
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It's my "modern" spin off of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. It was an english assignment, and I'm quite proud of it (gave me a headache though).
§Emma
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