-- A poem by Minoron N`truun

The darkest hour, the softest howl;
A scream of banshees in the night;
Vampires lurk about, spreading sinister pain;
A world without love, a world lacking light;

Bloodloch sits within the ground, evil spewing forth;
Our darkest our, the time of Priests, spreading onward Good;
Champion the Cause of Light, send the dead along their course;
A bitter struggle, victory, destructors of evil Tyranny;

We marched forward with our armies of Light;
Swords and maces gleaming bright;
Many died, and many lived, a testament to their skill;
Vampires knocked back to their lair;

A great being stepped up from the ground, hissing all the while;
Darkest eyes black as midnight, gleaming against our shields;
Our leader stepped forward, swinging his sword;
To vanquish evil once again, a triumphant smile upon his face;
But the Vampire was too quick for him, slashing darting flying;

The man droppped to the ground, wounds covering his body;
Death smelt rampant in the air, for surely we were lost;
But all was not doomed, a boy stepped forward;
His armour shone with the light of the Gods;
"Get back thee fiend, away from me and mine" he cried, sword in hand;

The beast rushed forward, roaring in rage;
The boy knocked him back with a prayer;
The beast struck once, twice again, howling at the child;
The boy just laughed and prayed again, chains of light cascading;

The day was won, the vampires defeated;
Our child hero had saved the day;
We went back home to celebrate, our narrowly avoided dooms;
For all is good when one has faith, and light will save the day;

Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Chakros, in the year 53 MA.