Posted August 17, 2011
![avatar](/upload/avatars/2011/04/4829834ca3547a72fc64345e9bcea5aba91577fb_t.jpg)
![avatar](/upload/avatars/2011/05/c7f6b5499f905eb1fc740bdb924dd4b68d96bc5a_t.jpg)
At comfort in the clutches of night,
In light, prone to blindness and fever
Whose crossbow is pulled to fight?
Who in the cavernous deep doth dwell
He, one hundred villains has fell,
The tracker and trapper of great renown,
Hidden away with Mouse and hound?
Whose trust for the ancient myths did dwindle,
Now retreats down the lonely paths of the world,
'Till the fires of justice and righteousness kindle,
That with the dawn, a new banner unfurled?
Who hears now the lies the elders enforce,
Who fears not their magic nor any such force,
Who counts on the bolts, the mace and the lathe?
This man, I submit, bears the name of the Wraith.
Post edited August 17, 2011 by GameRager