Night of the Fall
'Twas the first night of winter, when all through the land
The people prayed to Istara, hoping all would go as planned;
Weapons were made by the smiths to prepare,
To defeat the Undead Horde, all warriors did swear.
Families were nestled all safe in their homes,
Safe with the plans of the Elves, Dwarves and Gnomes.
On the way to the tavern, with my lady clinging,
We were about to enjoy a long night of singing.
Ahead on the road approached a man who appeared harmed,
He stumbled slowly toward us, my lady was alarmed.
I approached in the hopes I could aid him,
But then I realized his fate was already grim.
The moon was full and lit up the sky,
Providing a view of the worst way to die.
I grabbed my lady's wrist and turned to flee,
For I had seen my first zombie.
Our way was blocked by a large white wagon,
So fast and large, at first I thought was a dragon.
Pulled by eight skeletal horses, standing prestigious,
I knew then I had met the Withered Aegis.
I realized then the white wagon was bone.
A black bolt struck me and knocked me prone.
My lady stood over me, her sword she did unsheathe,
She defended me bravely, as I fought to breathe.
She fought with skill and was brave,
As she fought the scourge from the grave.
As salt rock beneath a miner's pick does crumble,
She defeated ten zombies before she did stumble.
And then, with a flash, I heard a crack
Another black bolt struck my lady's back.
To the side of the road, she fell to the mud.
Zombies tore her to pieces, leaving only some blood.
I knew then I was dead as well,
Wondering if I would go to hell.
Then I felt a pull at my soul,
wondering if my lady I could soon console.
I appeared standing at a shrine,
But of my lady there was no sign.
I realized I was one of the Gifted,
My goal in life had shifted.
I yelled an oath to the night,
Sanctified as a holy rite:
"I shall not give up this fight,
Until I bring an end to this Blight!"
)
