Jonbeard Poem by Micah Krahn

Jonbeard had always wondered about the day he would pick up the intrepid Sword of Ilariah and slay the dragons of Isah, aspirations for an uncanny life.
Jonbeard audaciously stood at a mere 5 feet tall, his beard was almost as tall as he was; most of the other elven childlings unspeakably had no reasoning why Jonbeard was just as old as them but still had a beard this confounded the discussions of the little ones who often played with him.
Many years ago.
In the province of Tykara, in the outskirts of Ferynguard was a small mining town, where unchangeable circumstances were about to have an impact of dire consequence.
This town had nothing to offer to the gods but the wicked reinforced tariffs that had beckoned the land with a devastating drought of a once lavish and prosperous life, still there was a glimmer of hope peaking through the sands of time.
Ferynguard was famed by the gods to have extraordinary and exquisite young women, whose captivating beauty had quite often silenced the quaint the majestic dell.
However in this defiant scarcity of vast proportions, beauty had been its curse, little did they know it but this unsanctioned spell was about to get a violent awakening.