One of the gobs approached Lord Muolih, the Spreading Darkness, and asked him to bless a smallsword.

“Why should I bless such a small sword, weilded by such a small gob, when I could instead place my blessing on the blade of my finest warrior?” asked Muolih.

“It is the way of elves and men, who strut around so tall, to ignore the smaller gobs and then, to not see us at all.”

Muolih, impressed by the small gob’s rhyming song, directed it to continue.

“A blade in cavalry leader’s hand when he is leading a charge? This is a blow they’ll see, for he is fast and large. My smallsword, though, is small and quick and the tall ones pay no heed; they will think themselves quite thick once I have done the deed.”

Muolih, amused, granted the gob’s request. And thus was born Doggerel, the Blessed Blade of the Spreading Darkness, which offered a boon to whomever could ask for one with a rhyme. But it was also fickle, and could be rhymed away from any owner by a sufficiently talented poet.

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