So, you didn't explicitly say 'writing' but, you didn't explicitly say 'no writing' either. Also, it fits snugly under the umbrella of 'whatever' so, here ya have it.
It started of as a post for /r/mcservers for my Minecraft server (yeah, that's still a thing) and It jumped the rails. It's basically my attempt to describe Minecraft from the perspective of Urist McMiner--it's borderline fanfic, possessing no affection for pentameter or prose and entirely self-indulgent. ENJOY
"A proposition for you; in exchange for a brew, a tale of far-off land?
You're clearly no fool so, Pull up a stool and place a fresh pint in my hand.
Ah, that's much better now my whistle is wetter, on to my part of this deal.
I speak of a place where men vanish without trace but, still seek with great zeal.
'Tis a world filled with riches, rumors of witches and free for any to claim.
The land itself savage, at night undead ravage and call forth explosions that maim.
Deep under the earth, in the cavernous dearth; a fortress entombed where it fell.
With greed they dug deeper, awakened the sleeper and opened the gates to hell.
These people my kin, I inherit their sin and sworn not to set foot in that place.
To this day it persists, have no doubt, it exists--sure as this beard on my face!
Now you're thinking; I've not paid for my drinking by spinning some tree-lover's tale.
Have no regrets, I settle my debts and that story's not what paid for this ale.
From hearth to glen and from tavern to den this legend can be heard abound.
What those tales lack is how to get back to the long lost fortress underground."
"Yes, I know how! See, you're listening now--come in closer and pay attention to me:
Plane of void and spire and pits of fiends and fire; That's where you'll find the key.
If you glimpse sight of these men made of night you might wonder if you'd gone insane.
Consign all your doubt, you will seek them out--these visitors from another plane.
Like a ghost to be engaged, this shade must be enraged by gazing into it's eyes.
This source of their ire is what you desire, slay them and take your prize.
The pearl is a treasure nearly beyond measure but only the first half of your quest.
Into the inferno is now where you must go and put your true mettle to the test.
Through the dark portal, dare goes no mortal into the realm of fire and hate.
Born of malice and spite, malevolence alight, these conflagratory demons wait.
In molten seas of despair, you'll find floating there--the cruel citadels of pain.
It's here flame devils scorch, set fire and torch. They have what you seek to gain.
Extinguish their burning, slaying them, earning a fragment of their fiery core.
The task is now done. The artifact you've won will lead you to the forbidden door."
"Lo should you go, one thing you must know; the ill end of the fortress long lost.
Their king did they trust but, for wealth did he lust and his great kingdom did it cost.
Search did they in rapture for riches to capture when they unearthed the cursed gate.
Blinded by immense greed they entered without heed and assumed their doomed fate.
I don't know what reside on that other side but, it was a force they could not contain.
Countless many were dead, those few who survived fled and now only I remain.
These secrets I must save from going to the grave so, to you I pass them on.
Ahck! Is that clock right?! It's well into the night, I won't keep you until dawn.
Take great care with who this knowledge you share and how you solve its mysteries.
Go on get some rest, I wish ye the best, good luck in all your future journeys!"
With that you part ways, still in a daze--you wonder, "Could this old legend be true?!"
The thoughts of foolish kings, treasure and evil-things swirl about inside you.
You step into the street, travel several feet and are struck with suspicion.
Around you turn, back to face the tavern and you hear a familiar proposition:
"A proposition for you; in exchange for a brew, a tale of far-off land?
You're clearly no fool so, Pull up a stool and place a fresh pint in my hand..."
---
The entire time I was working on this I was inexorably compelled to type;
"It's great for a snack, it fits on your back, it's Log-Log-Log!"
Post edited August 12, 2014 by evilnancyreagan
