It's March and I'm still doing the December requests. NoRulesDM asked for 'Snail Knight Ballads'.
Well I couldn't do a full ballad quickly but I could do a few verses, so here are the first eleven of "The Ballad of Sir Chesslike Hand". If you want more, comment and I will try to keep adding to it.
Curl your ears for heres a tale
Fro-om the Curlicue Land,
Tells of a true Knight of the Snail,
That man, Sir Chesslike Hand!
Oh low did the Whippoorwill sing,
When came the heralds hail,
Hand heard the summons of the King,
And straight saddled his snail.
That snails shell was of purest gold,
It glowed like sun of noon,
It's beauty matched no form or mould,
In song or rhyme or tune.
Sir Hand set off into the dark,
And silver glowed his trail,
In sword and shield the stars cut sparks,
And on his golden snail.
His arms with star-fire were alight.
They came from a distant land.
Bronze-beaten days and lucent night,
Whence came Sir Chesslike Hand.
That knight a precept kept heart-near,
One clear thought had that knight
His hand would venture any deed,
But that the thing be Right.
"Oh let no ill, however slight,"
He spoke within his soul,
"Slip past my grasp, evade my sight,
For I'll not then be whole."
"To wreak out wrath is not my fate,
Nor seek the blades edge-light.
To bind what's cracked and seal the break,
Undo wrong and make right,"
"To make hearts whole and full of peace,
My hope is, and my bond,
Else break faith with mine own self, lose
My name - Sir Chesslike Hand!"
Sir Hand sang out his own name clear,
He pealed like a bronze bell,
A peal to blast from night the fear,
And quail the hounds of Hell.
"Sir Hand, Sir Hand, Sir Chesslike Hand!"
So crooned the conchiler.
"I'll sing my name in any land,
For any man to hear!"