#debukefarmhold

"Everyone grab your weapons" His mother says "Today we're studying poetry..."

Confusion blooms... weapons.. poetry?

Some shiver as class is being held out side

Even Adam frowns at that, but does as he is told.

"Before each of you is a box" she gestures to lunch pail sized boxes, "each has the name of a poem in it. Please pick one"

Adam picks up the closest one.

The options include 'The Tyger By Wiliam Blake', 'El Dorado by Poe' , 'Jabberwocky by Carrol'

At least those are the closet to HIM

/roll 1

"Jabberwocky"

And so he faces up

"Okay... open them, and get ready to learn the hard way" She says

Adam draws his sword, and opens the box.

And the Jaberwocky gullumphs out

Other students have flipped their own boxes and face Burning Tygers, Spectral Shades, .. one girl makes an UGH face.. she had chosen 'ode to a louse' and it is HUGE

"Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
      The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
      The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
      Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
      And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
      The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
      And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
      The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
      He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
      Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
      He chortled in his joy.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe." the creature chants as it stares at him with eyes of flame

"Holy shit...." Adam goes en guard.

The claws catch his shoulder, but haven't dug in yet

He also risks a glance around him; are there others who are outclassed in combat by thier poems?

No, the skill level of the poems seems to match

Then he focuses on his own foe.

Adam finds in the Jaberwocky, an even match for his skills! It seems as fast as he, as quick and cutting... of course it has teeth that snatch

but he might find himself enjoying this, it's a true test of arms

He.... -does-, actually. The physical exertion, the test, the challenge.... yes, this suits him just fine.

It's after the third repeat of the poem that he realizes... he needs to go for the neck, this thing was beheaded!

Shit. He starts to angle, look for a way to get wehre he needs to be... maybe on top of something? A desk or....??

Well the duel is out side..wait, a wheel barrow!

'HA!" Adam leaps up on it, like he's doing a lay-up but without the hoop, and swings!

And One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

His mother cheers "Adam, that was wonderful!"

Adam, flushed from exertion and chilled from the air, grins. "Thanks. That was pretty cool. But what were we supposed to learn about poetry?" He looks around to see if anyone else needs a hand.

Others seem to have won out too. They seem surprised. Not everyone is a fighter but even the wimps won. or at least tied

"each chimera you fought" she tells the others congratulating them as well, "is cultivated from dreams those poems inspired. I'm always telling you , each of you, that words, and the form those words take, and the metaphors and more have power, and you smile and nod but I think a lot of you don't really believe me....now, not to dim your victory, but magics were put on these Chimera so they had to fight at your level, no better. Some of them would have been much tougher otherwise and I'm not about to risk your lives to make a point. But the point here is...this is how it works for us. For Kithain and ENchanted alike...poetry fuels dreams, dreams create poetry, and symbols born of that mix are creations we face quite litterally. Poetry ,even doggerel, can be useful for bunks, or inspiration. I think all of you appreciate poetry a bit more now? In a way the unenchanted never will. For those in the Dreaming, Poetry is a survival skill. That's what I want you all to learn."

Suddenly a lot of the students are taking poetry a bit more seriously. They knew art and the dreaming were tied, but some of them hadn't realized what that could mean

Adam seems thoughtful too.

"ALso some of you just seemed to like hitting things so I figure if I can associate poetry with that it might help you remember the poems" She adds "Bet a few of them will always remember at least ONE line"

Chuckles at that, wounds are light.

His mom seems to be more confident now. Apparently her own saining has helped.

Adam nods agreement; chances are good he -will- remember.

"Now, you all got a work out, a few got scrapes... go see the healers.. and then? Head home. Homework is to memorize and later recite to me the poem you fought. But for right now, you've got the rest of the day off."

Adam packs up. He has to wait for a 'lift' so he might as well start memorizing. (ugh)

Alanza gets a bit of healing, then returns "is it just me, or is your mom a lot more confident in her teaching? "

Adam nods. "I guess so." he agrees.

"Good on her" she says "Mind you, I did not expect to fight a shade from a Poe poem but it certainly got my attention." She sits next to him and starts to memorize her poems

Zane staggers in, healed, but slight bits of burned fur "I thought as a short poem, Blake's Tyger would be easy. Am I smoking?"

"Looks like you were. Smells like it, too." Adam grins a little.

"Ah darn it. Healing magic does'n't HELP with that" He groans

Alanza laughs

"You wanna hang out till they come to get us?"