Forsooth there was a jaunty gob
A master swordsman he
But murdering was not his job
He kept instead a beat

A set of musick blades he owned
Their steel was finely wrought
Carefully their blades he’d honed
For the music that he sought

When each blade did cut the air
Or strike against something
A musical note would linger there
As the steel did ring

And so the gob put on his show
To crowds both large and rapt
His music ringing with each blow
As melodies he tapped

Daredevilry it was as well
No simple parlor trick
For to ring out like a bell
The blades were sharp and thick

He made a name with breathless feats
Of notes both cut and struck
But there were some who held his deeds
Were nothing but pure luck

A jealous bard, an elfin mule
A challenge he laid down
The finer musician would keep his rule
While the other gave up sounds

They met one day in a public square
To finalize their duel
Harsh words were said, along with dares
Most unpleasant and cruel

The bardish mule did play his lute
And sang a comely tune
The crowd was left completely mute
And several ladies swooned

The gob went next, and with his swords
He slashed a symphony
Astounding all the gathered hordes
As people strained to see

No lucky fluke this goblin bard
No trick within his blades
The elvish mule was put down hard
And on the ground he stayed

For the last note of the goblin song
Was a blow both short and sharp
And though it went a little wrong
It wound up in the harp

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