As you close the heavy tavern door,
I see your eyes widen in anxiety,
To see a motley band with steins held high,
In this beer-soaked spectacle,
Lives a bond of camaraderie,
Hardened by bruises and lost limbs,
Tempered in heist after scuffle after ruckus,
Personages of every fantastical race,
Thieves with honour,
Elves and orcs and men,
Dwarves and goblins,
Sharing pains,
Sharing scars,
Sharing losses,
This guild of grizzled veterans,
Decades in the making,
With myriad feats under each of their belts,
Feathers in caps and coins in pouches,
Not above the law but circumventing its eyes,
You bash down a bag of platinum and gold upon the bar,
You remember why you came to this den of reputed scum,
To steal from the rich,
And have some final breathes taken.
WorldofHarley 