A Bard's Tale

In Baldur's Gate, where shadows sleep,
A tale of theft, a secret deep.
Five rogues hoard of ill-got gain,
Treasure from the Lantern's flame..

The Kenku Killers, on their trail,
Sought vengeance, but their efforts failed.
The Flaming Fist, with iron might,
Sought justice, sending rogues to flight.

As years did pass, the heat died down,
Til fate's shadow befell the town.
Elturel fell, a smoking pit,
And Baldur's Gate, in fear did sit.

The Dead Three's cult, a lurking threat,
Their acolytes, we must beset.
In Elfsong Tavern, whispers rise,
Of hidden foes, and dark allies.

From pirates bold and vengeance dire,
With cutthroats fierce, her life the pyre.
A trap is set, a fight ensues,
Tarina lives, our strength renews.

The bathhouse beckons, fair yet fell,
Where evil lurks, in hidden hell.
Through secret doors, we make our way,
To vanquish foes, and seize the day.

Through flooded halls, where shadows swim,
We face our fears, with courage dim.
The Dead Three's acolytes, we find,
And with our blades, their souls unbind.

But dangers lurk, in every room,
A necromancer, seals our doom.
With fire and spell, she takes her stand,
But falls at last, by our brave hand.

A spectral skull, with eyes ablaze,
Marks us with fear, in dark amaze.
Our quest continues, fraught with dread,
As shadows gather, overhead.

The path descends, a winding maze,
Where shadows dance, in eerie haze.
An altar grim, with offerings dire,
And bones that speak, of dark desire.

A brazier lit, with emerald smoke,
And skeletons rise, as words are spoke.
In Salah's thrall, these bone men stand,
Obeyance to his stern command.

A searing flash, their senses numbed,
Blown back and broken, sightless, stunned,
Through gas and flame, we make our way,
To hidden vaults, where secrets lay.

A mummy's tomb, with moonlit gaze,
And zombies rise, in death's dark haze.
Against the horde, we stand and fight,
With blades we cleave, through endless night.

A Tiefling captive, weak and frail,
Is healed by touch, their life to bail.
Though whispers warn of greater strife,
While shadows loom, and threaten life.

A tortured soul, with secrets lost,
Vendetta's plight, a heavy cost.
We rest and heal, then venture deep,
Where stairs descend, and shadows creep.

In slumber deep, four guardsmen lie,
But Ira's blade, draws swiftly nigh.
A bloody clash, in chambers dim,
We fight and conquer, limb by limb.

From bloody tomb, a crone appears,
With honeyed words, and treacherous sneers.
Her true form shows, with wicked might,
And Salah falls, in fading light.

Invisibility's veil she weaves,
But Ira strikes, with swift reprieves.
Enchantment binds, with twisted will,
Till thunder breaks, the spell to kill.

An ogre roars, with bat in tow,
Through hidden doors, the monsters go.
In flooded halls, with torches dim,
We face the dead, with courage grim.

Mortlock stands, with club in hand,
Reveals the plot, to seize the land.
The Vanthampurs weave, a web of lies,
As Baldur's Gate, before them dies.

The cultist flees, with skull-like face,
We chase him down, with vengeful pace.
In final stand, 'mid idols grim,
We strike him down, with spells and vim.

But dangers new, arise once more,
As Tiamat's cult, comes to the fore.
With blades and spells, we take our stand,
And vanquish foes, throughout the land.

The Low Lantern, our next dark quest,
Where Amrik waits, with wicked test.
With coin and steel, we make our way,
To face the dawn, and seize the day.