Then came a bit of stubbed ground, once a wood,
Next a marsh, it would seem, and now mere earth
Desperate and done with; (so a fool finds mirth,
Makes a thing and then mars it, till his mood
Changes and off he goes!) within a rood---
Bog, clay and rubble, sand and stark black dearth.
Now blotches rankling, coloured gay and grim,
Now patches where some leanness of the soil's
Broke into moss or substances like boils;
Then came some palsied oak, a cleft in him
Like a distorted mouth that splits its rim
Gaping at death, and dies while it recoils.
And just as far as ever from the end!
Nought in the distance but the evening, nought
To point my footstep further! At the thought,
great black bird, Apollyon's bosom-friend,
Sailed past, nor beat his wide wing dragon-penned
That brushed my cap---perchance the guide I sought.
For, looking up, aware I somehow grew,
'Spite of the dusk, the plain had given place
All round to dire fell---with such name to grace
Mere ugly bogs and heaps now stolen in view.
How thus they had surprised me,---solve it, you!
How to get from them was no clearer case.
Yet half I seemed to recognize some trick
Of mischief happened to me, God knows when---
In a bad dream perhaps. Here ended, then,
Progress this way. When, in the very nick
Of giving up, one time more, came a click
As when a trap shuts---you're inside the den!
Burningly it came on me all at once,
This was the place! those two shrines on the right,
Crouched like two bulls locked horn in horn in fight;
While to the left, a tall scalped cliff ... Dunce,
Dotard, a-dozing at the very nonce,
After a life spent training for the sight!
What in the midst lay but the Tower itself?
The square squat turret, blind as the fool's heart,
Built of grey stone, without a counter-part
In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf
Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf
He strikes on, only when the timbers start.
Not see? because of night perhaps?---why, day
Came back again for that! before it left,
The dying sunset kindled through a cleft:
The hills, like giants at a hunting, lay,
Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay,---
``Now stab and end the Countess---to the heft!''
Not hear? when noise was everywhere! it tolled
Increasing like a bell. Names in my ears
Of all the lost adventurers my peers,---
How such a one was strong, and such was bold,
And such was fortunate, yet, each of old
Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.
There they stood, ranged along the hill-sides, met
To view the last of me, a living frame
For one more picture! in a sheet of flame
I saw them and I knew them all. And yet
Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set,
And blew. ``_Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came._''
Poem: "Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came" by Robert Browning with slight modifications (and apologies to the long dead poet for those changes).
That's the last of it, I really just wanted to get to that final line as I reached the Tower, I will go back to more literal and informative updates from now on.
Explanation: I've been thinking about writing tourney updates or a Guardian thread in poetry for a bit, but I'd rather play D2 than write about it and so never made the investment in time to do it. I'm currently reading Steven King's Dark Tower series (again) and it is partly inspired by the above poem. The snippets of the poem presented in the books, made me wonder if it would be possible to modify the poem to fit a character's D2 journey. When I read the full poem I found so many D2 references that it seemed like the poem had also inspired the D2 creators. There are references to Baal, the tree of Inifuss is there, the Cold Plains, the Dark Wood, the Black Swamp, Deckard Cain and of course the Tower. There are also quill rats and spear cats (well, water rats and feral cats) and the whole feel of the poem is similar to the dark feeling of D2. So I made a paladin called Roland and off to the Dark Tower he went, with a few words changed here and there to make the D2 connections more obvious. I also left out some parts of the poem that didn't really fit the D2 journey so well. Now that Roland has found (and cleared) the Dark Tower, he will continue on his way and I'll do a full update (without the limitations of the poetry) when we get to the end of the Act.