The Grind

I began a sprite, level one;
prey to cutscenes in which the world
careens off-course.

In short was this daybreak
and others like it at stake
that fate indulged a
tirade of
kill quests and
days lost

in taverns,
wilds and
caverns
chasing Mad
Hatters of my money’s
worth.

So far I’ve fought off
giants but
hardly worse,
a church of crazies funded on
the public purse
but not
dragons as of yet.

XYZ structure at a critical juncture
and some ninety levels
later
perfunctory threats
meet purpose,

if you can call
a night of
felled heroes

plot holes making progress.

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