Blue, peaceful sky it seemed
Until the clouds closed the visage,
Troubled gray colours up there increased.
Behold, they are coming.
Save your children, your wives.
Grab your weapons, go on to fight.
Silvery glowing champions of steel might
Never know when it is to stop
Orcs, Ogres destroying each grain of the crop
Slash them, enslave! - The Hordes' General screamed
But none could see as those Five arrived.
Bringing hope to the heart of the villagers.
And putting an end to the seemingly endless terror of raiders and
scavengers.
And this is where this story ends.
From your ever-inspired poet of Sands,
Me.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Fas, in the year 448 AD.