Padkos; Or, You left so suddenly

I hope you’re alright.

You left so suddenly —
you needed to go somewhere to save something —
it’s what adventurers do.
I know that;
I’ve worked in this tavern my whole life.

I hope you’re not hurt.

News came in from a scout
that a chasm opened along the trail south,
where you said you were going.
They said they found a modest grave
a couple yards off the pathway near it.

Before you left, I got up early,
split our family’s culture, 
kneaded it into some dough, let it rise.
I sang songs to it
from my family —
stories of tavernkeeps from long past —
and from my favorite local bard
who can never settle on a name —
songs of decaying drow corpses
and sacrificing souls to Nerull —
before baking it in my family’s hearth
as old as the grove itself.

I snuck it into your pack before you woke up,
so that maybe when things got dire,
you might find a second wind
and be able to ride it back to me.

This poem is part of a collection called Shards of Kardpaz, which are texts I’ve written for the world of the Dungeons & Dragons campaigns I run with students at my school.