(May the tacos and beer be ever in your favor!)

Okay, so I may be little, but I’m fun!
I admit, a bit round and rotund.
But armed with tacos and pints of beer,
There’s truly nothing to fear!

With a steady staff in my hand,
I stand prepared—both fierce and grand!
And a taco in the other—
Oh wait! I have another!

I’ll boldly march into battle,
Ignoring my mind’s inane prattle.
With furious chips and queso dip,
I strike down foes with my taco flip!

Oh, thy mighty Queso Taco Flip—
Making would-be villains slip!
With slippity-slappity cheese,
The fallen flounder and freeze.

“Dammit!” she cried, “I’m out of beer!
What kind of adventure is this? Oh dear!”
With tacos in hand, she frowned at the sight—
An empty mug? No beer in the night?

“A quest,” she thought, “should surely include
A pint of stout and some fine snack food!”
With steely resolve, she squared her chest—
She’d find a tavern and pass this test!

With staff in hand and tacos held high,
She set off for the tavern nearby.
The road was long, but she didn’t mind—
Her heart was fierce, her stomach aligned.

Through darkened woods, past an owl’s hoot,
She marched on, her boots in pursuit.
Then, over the hill, she spotted her goal—
A tavern aglow with mugs raised whole.

She reached the door, gave a mighty shove,
And stepped inside to laughter and love.
A cheer arose, the air was bright—
At last, an end to this beery plight!

“Two pints, please!” she called with cheer.
“I’ve traveled far—now bring me beer!”
With tacos in hand and a grin so wide,
The Little Cleric Who Would—satisfied.

She wandered out, her tacos held tight,
Not a single soul from the tavern in sight.
But there, just outside, her old adventuring crew—
The rogue, the barbarian, and the bard too.

“I’m ready for a quest!” she shouted with glee.
“I’ll take on dragons—I’ll fight with thee!”
But they only laughed, too busy to see,
The little cleric, beaming with bravery.

“We’ve already got our team,” the rogue said,
“Your skills are small, your dreams overfed.”
The bard just strummed, ignoring her plea,
While the cleric stood, staring defiantly.

She brushed off the sting and mumbled with pride,
“Fine! I’ll adventure alone—with tacos as my guide.”
With her staff held high and her mission renewed,
She set off once more—determined, taco-fueled!