Wesnothian poetry

[Fairy]

I read somewhere that poetry was a needed thing too, so here is a poem,
do with it whatever you guys like

(p.s. if someone could throw a grammar check against it I would be very glad indeed)

Spoiler:

The story of sir Gibberuck is a daunting one
Of dragons and trolls and goblins strong as man
Of ancient rites and demonic torments
Of dear lovers and of long lost friends
This is the story of sir Gibberuck,
Whom never could keep his mouth quiet and shut

One day Sir Gibberuck went on a journey to a long forsaken land
But, oh, what was the journey to there os so grand.
For one day he met a princess who needed his help
For you see, an army of troll whelp
Herded by cruel goblins strong as men
Had taken the king to their den!

So it came to be that sir Gibberuck went to find the evil beasts
And slay them in their sweatest dreams
At last he found their den far in the north-east
Drew his sword and there he goes whiles he screams
I shall slay you from your highest to your leasts
And so it came that they all died, or so it seems

For the king was safely brought home that night
And with his clothes stained in blood from the fight
Sir Gibberuck proposed to the fair princess in the light
And she accepted whilst the king was still in sight
And so it was sir Gibberucks fullest right
to be an heir to the throne in name and might



One day king Gibberuck spotted something in the sky
It was a giant beast and it was a-fly
So he called all his bravests knights
Called to arms those with the great mights
For a dragon had come to their lands at last
wit hits kindreds and it flew fast

towards the castle where the now queen was laing in bed
Readying herself for tears that had to be shed
so the knights charged at the cruel beasts
Slaing them right in the middle of their feast
For the had just slaughtered poor villagers
Foul beasts, foul curs!

So it came to bet hat sir Gibberuck slaed twenty-one drakes
whilst the sky wascrying out in lovely snow-flakes
Just as the queen cried tears,
Not out of anger but out of her fears
For sir Gibberuck never returned that night
He fell in his last battle in an honourable fight

The last drake was quite mighty, but fell for Sir Gibberuck’s sword
Who later than ngiht never returned
Because as the dragon was finally floored
He fell atop of sir Gibberuck and burned
Both himself and brave sir Gibberuck who roared
out for the love for whom he yearned

They burried him at the bay
At the end of the very long way
Now every yera every farmed burns some hay
To eekp the drakes away
And to honour sir Gibberuck in his decay
As well as they may.

The story is the story of Sir Giberruck and his life.
I see this as a famous story told by generation upon generation by storytellers.

Sincerely,

[Zigg]

In the first line, sir should have a Capital at the start.

[melinath]

It looks interesting. Best part is that since it's a folk tale, it doesn't have to be rooted in fact. Though it would reflect the time in which it was written, to an extent. Did you have a time in mind?

Also, are you planning to keep working on this?