My soon to be released module,
Extra Stout, is a little different. I've included recipes, drinking rules, and other weird bits to make it something more than the typical dungeon crawl. Of course, you can treat it as a straightforward crawl if that is too your liking. There are plenty of traps, secret doors, and new monsters for that!
However, I've also included poetry. Below is my second D&D poem (
you can find the first one here), which I also plan on including in
Extra Stout. You might not understand some of the references because they have specific meanings in the game, e.g., "Shattenberg 'slaw", "Tarf", and "mushroom brew".
There’s
A Monster In My Beer
A
Poem by Dylan Hartwell
Copyright
Dylan Hartwell 2012
There’s
a monster in my beer. How he got there I
don’t know,
But
he drinks my mushroom brew, and therefore he must go.
He
isn’t awfully big. Just a little bitty
imp,
And
he is always good with barmaids for his massive tips.
Taken
from my own coin purse, I must here assert,
And
though he tells a fine-spun tail, I must now desert.
My
warm spot by the fire and my Shattenberg ‘slaw,
Next
to my clean-picked bones, yes he ate too them all.
Sober
day by day I see him not, my time is unmolested,
‘Tis
odd indeed, he leaves my view until a tankard’s lifted.
Then
Katy bar the door and hold your purse strings tighter,
Than
you hold your girlfriend dear when nestled by the fire.
‘Cause
soon he comes and knows no slake nor inhibition either,
His
beer to drink, at barmaids wink, and speak to all with blather.
By
evening’s end, and daylight creeping oh so near,
At
last he shuts his mouth and finishes my beer.
Some
tavern barflies wave goodbye; from one drunk to another,
For
things unsaid despite the talk is what had won them over.
At
times I wake surprised to see his footprints on my floor,
Often
filth and stomach contents also from meals the night before.
Bruised
face and blackened eye often greet me with the sun,
For
my imp knows not when ‘tis wise to hold his tongue.
And
when I wash my face in nearby Tarf so pure,
I
see my imp smiling back at me with thoughts anew impure.
Another
tavern night awaits my rancor and my thirst.
I
know my monster, imp, is me, but that is not the worst.