I patted the dead kobolds ass. “Sit down, you’ve more to learn,” I said. Her brows lifted above her bloodshot eyes and her face said ‘can’t it fucking wait asshole?’ but she complied.


    The warriors bleed,


    the forests burn,


    and Lustria lies alone forlorn.


    But worry not Great Lustria, your friends are marching toward.


    The Dwarves with speed of glacial ice,


    and humans faster still by twice,


    Yes, worry not Great Lustria they’re ever marching toward.


    The city sallies from the gate,


    The women stand in warriors plate,


    The children weep and all we wait,


    But worry not Great Lustria they‘re ever marching toward.


    At last, the humans join the fray,


    The dwarves will be but one more day,


    Just one more day Great Lustria they’re ever marching toward.


    The Sacred Groves are wastelands now,


    The Lives of warriors wasted now,


    the battle is won but the war is lost,


    the lich is dead but at what cost.


    Why did you listen Lustria?


    Were they ever marched toward?


    No, they were never marching toward...