This is a game where we tell the stories of a couple of brave adventurers who are on a quest to save the land. You do not play a character, you just contribute to the story.

The rules are simple:

• You have to write in stanzas
• You have to rhyme
• Do not derail the story too early

You do not have to copy my style or pace. Just rhyming in stanzas will do.

I will go first:

The queen of the realm one day gave a quest
To the people known as the best of the best
"Seek in the old forest a magical mist,
And see if you of it can get the gist"
And the heroes agreed

They mounted their horses and packed their gear
And as the time for departure drew near
Roland the knight strode forth and did ask
"Who do we select of us, in this task
to lead?"

"I believe to choose the one who is most able, we should hear each-other's stories to see who is mentally stable. You start, Sir Smith, greatest bard of all. You start and tell us why you answered adventure's call." The group turned to Sir Smith, ears open and ready. Sir Smith spoke "Aight, chill Freddy. Now, this is a story all about how my life got flipped-turned upside down, and I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there, I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air

In west Philadelphia born and raised
On the playground was where I spent most of my days
Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool
And all shootin some b-ball outside of the school
When a couple of guys who were up to no good
Started making trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one little fight and my mom got scared
She said 'You're movin' with your aunt and uncle in Bel Air'

I begged and pleaded with her day after day
But she packed my suit case and sent me on my way
She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket.
I put my Walkman on and said, 'I might as well kick it'.

First class, yo this is bad
Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass.
Is this what the people of Bel-Air living like?
Hmmmmm this might be alright.

But wait I hear they're prissy, bourgeois, all that
Is this the type of place that they just send this cool cat?
I don't think so
I'll see when I get there
I hope they're prepared for the prince of Bel-Air

Well, the plane landed and when I came out
There was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with my name out
I ain't trying to get arrested yet
I just got here
I sprang with the quickness like lightning, disappeared

I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I could say that this cab was rare
But I thought 'Nah, forget it' - 'Yo, homes to Bel Air'

I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later'
I looked at my kingdom
I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air."

Both Roland and Fred stood truly amazed
Then, slowly, the hand of the knight was raised
"What is this place that you speak of, Bel Air
Mentioned in your poem, so fair?
I have never heard of it!"

But Fred crossed his arms in defiance
With him Smith would not find alliance
He leaned in towards Tara, the seer
And whispered softly in her ear
"That place sounds like shit!"

Sir Smith softly clapped and out from behind him came a small human man. "My dancing man servant, I call him Carlton
He can answer question number one.
He was born in Bel Air, an' man we was tight.
Just let him do all the splainin', alright?"

Sir Smith with the quickness walked up to Fred
Gave it a moment then bopped him on the head
"This is a black thing, isn't it?"

Fred, quite surprised, did not know what to say
But Tara would not let Smith on him prey
"If this was a black thing, brother" said she
"Then why on earth would he say that to me?"
Roland sniggered

Sir Mary then boldly did speak
"Clearly we shall not follow this freak
Or his dancer, the seer or the sniggering knight
At the thought of your leadership I shudder with fright!"
War was triggered

rhyme
dime
corruption
seduction
erruption

Yeaaah