I’ve been working on some experimental poetry between rounds. I think it helps me keep focused. Wanna hear some?
Lo, what Therosian terrors await me?
The Simic mage with monsters as yet unseen, slinging spells deftly, surveying and summoning.
My own plans foundering, struggling to make purchase, scrabbling meekly.
Suddenly, natural power, effervescent, exploding before my eyes. The Kraken– it’s mist leaving me breathless, cowering in it’s wake.
My elders of Lagonna shudder at this fearsome foe.
Remarks the Simic mage “GG”
The cruelty! the impetuous knave has dared speak this? Surely too soon, but how?
Prayers yet unanswered, redoubled. A murmur into a shout, “ONE TIME DEALER”
A surge of brine bathes, engulfs me. The kraken approaches.
The mage commands “Monstrify!”.
My final hour looms, the icy breath of death upon my neck. Goosebumps.
But wait! The mage buckles, crumples, lacking power. The kraken remails mortal.
A clatter of hooves, centaurs rush to my aid. One pulled to sea, the other slung strongly aside, surely drowned, devoured– or worse.
Battle and hope lost?
A shot. White, jagged, hot! What fortune from the sky! The kraken left scarred by lighting, recedes into the murky abyss. Emboldened, I press for victory.
The Simic mage, reduced to nothing, wretched, barely clinging to hope.
I prolong his suffering, his suspense, under my boot. Before you see your spell summoner, I say “GG”.
I call that one “Don’t you ever, EVER give me the premature GG you worthless piece of garbage.”