This is a guest post by Paul Carburn.
So sat the Kobold King, in his fiefdom of dismay.
Tapping with his gnarly ring, the captives on display.
He counted them for all he could, but had to start anew.
Like many things ‘bove Koboldhood, ’twas not something he knew.
As his throne was creaking with each movement,
and his clothes were reeking quite inhuman.
He told his green and burly henchmen,
to open the gates used for detention.
“Bring to me the topside girl, who knows of things to build.”
The cage swung open with a whirl, and out came one most skilled.
In mortal lands she was a mason,
her worker hands shaped admiration.
The luckless human ‘Jane the Mastiff’,
a stocky woman whose life was captive.
She settled before him on her knees,
the monarch monster smiled with glee.
He ordered a throne fit for a king,
to replace his battered, broken thing.
The eyes of Jane lit up so bright,
she knew her chance for flight was right.
For she had a bark and she had a bite,
and even in underdark, she saw the light,
she would trick her green and ugly captor,
by building that throne that he was after.
She timmered wood, she worked with metal,
her craft was good, she wouldn’t settle.
Her sweat would set, and thicken salt on brow,
Her clothes were wet, but she didn’t care for now.
The thrones were completed,
there were two more than needed.
Jane was greedily greeted,
by the king and his meat-heads.
Before they were seated,
the thrones had been treated,
with a glue that unheated.
The kobolds defeated,
they grumbled and pleaded,
but Jane would not heed it,
back to earth she proceeded.