In
Forgotten Days of Yore
In fair Eradas, the story goes,
The lands were rife with fear,
Its people cowered in the grip
Of villainy, far and near.
At sleepy, humble Forest’s Edge,
Foul goblins rent the night,
With violent cries and bloody roars,
To instill unholy fright.
They cruelly hacked and slashed
And slain the peaceful village men,
Who fought like simple fools
And quickly fell beside their friends.
But then, as their destruction loomed,
Their village, torn and burned,
Six motley heroes rose, and soon
The tides of battle turned.
A goliath, name of Steiner,
Heart of gold and hide of stone,
Displayed his mountain justice
As he crushed the goblins’ bones.
And then they met a dragonborn;
Bael, the paladin,
With righteous fury and freezing breath
He brought about their end.
There came the drifter, Melastien,
Born of unknown lands,
He brought his foes a fiercely swift
Demise by Elven hands.
The fourth, a pixie sorcerer,
Mxyzptlk of the trees,
Was mocked by goblins ‘til his thunder
Brought them to their knees.
The human wizard, Regdar,
Master of the arcane arts
Unleashed his searing lightning
Ripping vile foes apart.
The last of them, a human Cleric,
Rowan, full of grace;
His faith could heal the sick,
Or smite the wicked, he did face.
The goblin hordes had erred
In their disastrous village raid,
For every last was felled
By blazing spell and piercing blade.
And when the smoke of battle
Broke with sun’s protecting glow,
The people knew their saviors
As they stood ‘mongst bloodied foes.
With joyful tears, the people cheered
The heroes in their midst,
They passed the jugs of ale and mead,
But the heroes did resist.
The first, they knew, of many battles,
A minor victory,
How long the war would carry on…
Well, only time could see.
And so the heroes, six, did ride
Toward setting amber sun,
On oath to never venture back
Until the war was won.
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