Such the likes were Dobias so sent
As soldiers summonsed to be guards
With both sword and pike in hand
Beyond the walls an encampment lay
Huddled about a Firey-pit’s warmth
So charged against the call of alarm
Many a man was crippled or killed
In defense against such onslaughts
By wild men, goblin, or dark-trolls
Dobias, son of Jalbias now dead
One who was torn limb from limb
Even before his watching son
On too many a night thereafter
Like winter’s driven winds
Dobias would rage bitter cold
Meda his fair bride of youth
Bore Dobias four daughters
And four sons he was blessed
Even so with babe in arms
Dobias would strike his wife
And beat her down in spite
Ventures in those goblin raids
Replayed over and again
Horrid vision to the man’s eyes
Hideous memories taunted Dobias
Compounded by strong drink
He became a nightmare himself
Dobias fell against his household
Unto his storm they succumbed
Beneath his fearsome rage fell
Many admonished that man
Fellow soldiers and priest alike
He refused their scolding words
Time and again his wife
Felt more bitter than bliss
Even before his tiny brood
Arrested by his Captain
Then led before the King
Vendumar heard his case
The Crown listened then sided
More than for the man’s woe
And rendered a harsh verdict
Sentenced three years of service
Beside the ass and ox of the field
Dobias was condemned to be
So was the case then begun
Of how enslavement entered
And taxed that dark realm.
(c) 2024 The Eclectic SNOWber Productions
All rights reserved, the logo, scarfed, pipe-smoking polar bear, maps,
and images are all the works of the author.
No "AI" was used in the story conception!
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