Potash's Dumplings
This is not an old legend, but a new one, smuggled from the demon raiders of the lower lands, to the mangrove camps of the demons, back to the fire-blossom of the Last Stop and more importantly its gambling shed out the back. It was told to Old Snakebeard over some sort of drop traded for a good tale and safe passage to somewhere secret. And Old Snakebeard traded the story to a bard in Natare, which is how it gets to you on Radio Luna.
Hear a tale both loose and fast,
a delving to our collect've past.
Of raiding demons full of spoils,
we work one way, they have their toils.
We open on their journey home.
Their bloodied feet, and much to roam.
Their stomachs grumbling, their mood quite fresh
But fate their tales seeks to enmesh.
For back at camp, their comrades slain
Their bodies no more than a stain
Nocturne hunters lay in wait
lest demon raiders passed rootborn gate
But rushing was the demon chief
Dreams of oceans calling brief
Quick they went, or sail be found
Iron boots upon the ground
-Iron is the stone made demon, calls to humans ever gleaming. Nameless terrorsbrought the forging as bloodied hungers ever gorging.
But vision came from one made Seer
Of danger growing ever near
A lucky Potash, company cook
With laden bags and nervous look
When pause was made to scout for danger
and darkened night got ever stranger
Our nervous cook took scurrying crab
Glow-eyes put upon the slab.
Tuber dough of paperbark thin
Glow eyes flesh with spices tucked within
Layered carrots, then the beets
Bringing forth umami treats
As the boiling pot began
Hunger was the demon's plan
Slow the chief with laden belly
Make his legs like reed-weep jelly
From the pot the crab smell lurked
As broth congealed, the cook she smirked
The crew they rested beneath purple trees
And listened to sounds of buzzing bees
So home they went on Dumpling meal
With all those things they did oft steal
Alive and with the captain's sail
To bring this bard a young chef's tale
a delving to our collect've past.
Of raiding demons full of spoils,
we work one way, they have their toils.
We open on their journey home.
Their bloodied feet, and much to roam.
Their stomachs grumbling, their mood quite fresh
But fate their tales seeks to enmesh.
For back at camp, their comrades slain
Their bodies no more than a stain
Nocturne hunters lay in wait
lest demon raiders passed rootborn gate
But rushing was the demon chief
Dreams of oceans calling brief
Quick they went, or sail be found
Iron boots upon the ground
-Iron is the stone made demon, calls to humans ever gleaming. Nameless terrorsbrought the forging as bloodied hungers ever gorging.
But vision came from one made Seer
Of danger growing ever near
A lucky Potash, company cook
With laden bags and nervous look
When pause was made to scout for danger
and darkened night got ever stranger
Our nervous cook took scurrying crab
Glow-eyes put upon the slab.
Tuber dough of paperbark thin
Glow eyes flesh with spices tucked within
Layered carrots, then the beets
Bringing forth umami treats
As the boiling pot began
Hunger was the demon's plan
Slow the chief with laden belly
Make his legs like reed-weep jelly
From the pot the crab smell lurked
As broth congealed, the cook she smirked
The crew they rested beneath purple trees
And listened to sounds of buzzing bees
So home they went on Dumpling meal
With all those things they did oft steal
Alive and with the captain's sail
To bring this bard a young chef's tale
Potash Dumplings:
Glow Eyes meat, lightly boiled. Carrots sliced thinly. Beetroot also sliced thin. Garlic Popped water reed. Wrap in potato dough and fry quickly until shell is crispy. Eat fresh.
Telling / Prose
Related Locations
Thank you for reading, feel free to give feedback.
Such a great idea to have your myth in verse! Beautiful work :)
Sometimes you have to ill-advised a thing