no ‘isms!

wyrm riddled

missing the pleistocene fellows

if ye have no market bog gathered is fine

a barrel and suspenders make for a fine party outfit in a pinch

scrimshaw time

escaped the soup feeling much fresher

may thine journey not end with delectable soup

committed to the depths of soup very big soup

being stirred in a large pot rouxing the day

safe journey, travelers

sliming

riddlesome

what doth possess five toes but is not thine own foot

convening with the spirits to-night

foresee cheese nightmares to-night

my hunger were mistaken for greed by men who wanted for naught

a tulip bulb cored and boiled be edible but not terrible good pottage

valuable slimes

glop

my suspicions are sneaking

asparamancy

the wyrm o revenge

took psychic damage I shall try again to-morrow methinks it shan’t happen twice

feasting on small grains

slopped about in the low tide river mud

hee hee! ha ha!

fair winds and following seas

a watery grave

smooth stones churn the river not

swirling swamp substances exhausting effluvium

rum rummy rum

the leaders of men yet less spine than a wyrm

thin frost upon my cloak

celebrating with a romp with my man fellow

wherefore art the rump toucher

gentle rump touches make a cold night pleasant

yearning

begone vile hag love persists

tomfoolery

the wail of the dread bog witch were heard thinly through the gale

that were too much fibre for mine corporeal form

only a fool eats beets and beans at the same meal

perchance beet soup may heal me

leaking goo and slime

vexed and hexed by the dread bog witch

writing tomes

storms a coming

moon water

the full moon has risen