Narrative
Keena
Mavus
An ill darkness brings the divine a cold harvest,
Wind drowns out the sound, Unconscience and awoke in bold darkness.
A lost combatant dwells in the cell of entrapment...
A confused Mavus, Discovered a tombs sacred,
He suggested danger, Panicked and began to lose patients.
The cave walls were being beaten upon,
Desperate to escape like athiests finally believing in God.
Emerging from smoke was this thin figure,
Mavus squinted in attempts to get a clear picture.
It was ghostly, Platform clowds transported her slowly,
A goddess? Mavus' first guess sparked by flashbacks of a known queen.
Mavus approaches, At a cautionary angle of course,
He notices Keena, Protector of lords and angel of swords.
Mavus bows in her presence without asking her questions,
He requests a leave and before Mavus could breathe,
she said:
"I have no intentions of harm."
Mavus replied swiftly and hard...
"Why am I slaved in this burial like a prisoners farm?"
At a pause Keena cackles and responds as she unchains his shackles...
"My respects are for war,
The sight seeing blood run from a warrior's sword.
But Mavus, You fight with no weapon in clenches,
Therefore, Your being is vulnerable as your life could be ended in seconds."
Mavus arose from his kneeling position,
Gleaming eyes and pondering how he's here in deathling divisions.
"I was feasting, My henchmen and I grew tired and went to sleep when,
The Earth's winds picked up and candel-lights blew out, You took me as I was weakened!"
Keena felt threatened when Mavus became exclamatory...
"Lower your tone Mavus or my swords will make your bones sacred!
You're here 'cause you fight, With no weapon jut bold hatred."
At her grasp she holds a special artifact...
In delight Mavus says:
"A treasury, I could do marvelous arts with that."
As a gleam shoots from the blade...
"'Tis a gift Mavus, An object which brings warriors history,
Defeat will never be thought, The sword holds immortal victory!"
Keena
Mavus
An ill darkness brings the divine a cold harvest,
Wind drowns out the sound, Unconscience and awoke in bold darkness.
A lost combatant dwells in the cell of entrapment...
A confused Mavus, Discovered a tombs sacred,
He suggested danger, Panicked and began to lose patients.
The cave walls were being beaten upon,
Desperate to escape like athiests finally believing in God.
Emerging from smoke was this thin figure,
Mavus squinted in attempts to get a clear picture.
It was ghostly, Platform clowds transported her slowly,
A goddess? Mavus' first guess sparked by flashbacks of a known queen.
Mavus approaches, At a cautionary angle of course,
He notices Keena, Protector of lords and angel of swords.
Mavus bows in her presence without asking her questions,
He requests a leave and before Mavus could breathe,
she said:
"I have no intentions of harm."
Mavus replied swiftly and hard...
"Why am I slaved in this burial like a prisoners farm?"
At a pause Keena cackles and responds as she unchains his shackles...
"My respects are for war,
The sight seeing blood run from a warrior's sword.
But Mavus, You fight with no weapon in clenches,
Therefore, Your being is vulnerable as your life could be ended in seconds."
Mavus arose from his kneeling position,
Gleaming eyes and pondering how he's here in deathling divisions.
"I was feasting, My henchmen and I grew tired and went to sleep when,
The Earth's winds picked up and candel-lights blew out, You took me as I was weakened!"
Keena felt threatened when Mavus became exclamatory...
"Lower your tone Mavus or my swords will make your bones sacred!
You're here 'cause you fight, With no weapon jut bold hatred."
At her grasp she holds a special artifact...
In delight Mavus says:
"A treasury, I could do marvelous arts with that."
As a gleam shoots from the blade...
"'Tis a gift Mavus, An object which brings warriors history,
Defeat will never be thought, The sword holds immortal victory!"