A few days past, I’m in my cell, I’ve been feeling all is well , I’m laying back upon some benches, Perusing copy of ‘Busty Wenches’, When suddenly, knock comes on my door, Disturbs my reading on a whore, Called Tulula Tulip, she’s quite randy, The knock disturbs my one hand shandy.
Quite annoyed by interruption, Just as I was near eruption, A letter is pushed under door, And slides across the dusty floor, I pull up robes and pick up note, And tie the string around my coat.
The note states that there’s been some grief, I go to straight to the ‘Dragons Teeth’, There I meet with Garrison, And tell him about the deed been done, Next we go to Pipers Fiddle, Where Thorsson is right in the middle, Of what appears to be a troupe of benders, Although I think because of their genders, That they are called contortionists, We’d stumbled on the warlocks tryst, His secret bendy life exposed, None of us would have supposed.
Anyway I do digress, We must find Bob, I profess, We randomly find Bob in Vesk, Sitting at a wooden desk, Dressed up in Bakers attire, Arguing with a town crier.
We tell Bob about the letter, And we decide it would be better, If we all went to the church, Of Bahamut, to continue search. But guards won’t let us through, A negotiation doth ensue, The parlay it goes to and fro, Garrison decides to go, And see his friend Lieutenant Oddvar, His drinking friend from many a bar, The upper city we could venture, For one week we all could enter.
We all go to Bahamut’s church, To begin important research, To find out what has happened there, We find the Archdeacon in a chair, ‘Good day’ Archdeacon Armas speaks, We find out what’s happened this week.
Crayack’s been kidnapped again, This time by some assassins, I wonder if he’s worth the trouble, But this makes the story double, We work out it could be were-rats, Lycanthropes! We need were-cats.