Jon's Campaign

waters getting rough

a bardy contribution to the tune of gilligans island

Just sit right back
And I’ll spin a tale
A tale of my fateful trip,
That started from port Cameron,
Aboard my Viking ship.
Her sail was a brightly rigg-ed sheet,
Her skull was wide of birth,
She’d travel far beyond her reach and give all she’s worth
An’ give all she’s worth

The weather started getting rough,
My tiny ship was tossed.
If my bearings back didn’t come back to me,
I surely would be lost.
I surely would be lost.

I washed a ground on the shore
Of this demonically possessed isle
Threw my lot in
With a crew
And his wolf,
Lady Brieza,
Luther Ellen Hill-e-brand
An’ Squeak the Halfling dwarf

(Ending verse)

So this is the tale of our journey here,
Down in this deep dark mine.
We’d have to go down one by one,
It’s a down-hill climb.
Divided up the watch that night
We set to take a rest,
Breiza made some food for us
Down in the demons nest

No sound, no lights, no warning or
Not a single thing to see
Then ‘fore you could blink your eyes
t’was as stinky as can be.

So Breiza took up her sword and
Thorafin doubled his wolf
The demons surely stood no chance
Team works all it took!

Adisla Gunna



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