| OF THE KRALEN MARSHLANDS |
| Within a stinking waste of marsh Weather-worn and hazards harsh Dwells a beast which no one knows This evil, always hungry, grows Those ensnared do not escape Famished, its mantibles agape To victims only is it seen Reflexes quick and senses keen For those who had family dear Wander thither and disappear No explanation to them came Bereaved were they all the same Upon that land Men laid a curse For luck once there would turn worse Never more would souls there stray Not even under bright of Day No tale there is of any mirth To tell more of this Evil's birth Some say the Fellar cursed that land With a foul and vengeful hand But whether that opinion's true Is just as guessed as well by you |