O
old.Gryllus
Guest
Time comes, time goes by, recent events became history.
Some of them we forget, some of them take place in the Book of Knowledge.
My cabalist from the distant plane sent me this roll, to share with you.
Epic of a sad sunday
Lets go, raid these hibernians,
We fight and take their strength relic!
And Albion rides through ranges -
Here begins our sad epic.
Emain is still and silent,
Big troll guards sit on the gate.
"Sumthing's coming!" says one of them,
And watches at the distant east.
Wut is that, a giant dust-snake?
Newa seen that mob befor'
They try to run but its now too late,
It was the rush of Albion.
So the proud armee runs and
takes away the elven keeps.
Firbolgs dying, keep lords lying,
And that's only the beginning.
Now the brave albian party
Gathers at the relic keep.
They rush and no relic guard
Stands the rage of paladins.
Defenders come, defenders fall,
The siege brigad defends the doors.
But some elves manage to sneak in,
That later causes big troubles.
Relic doors are hard to beat, but
Slowly break up al the tree.
And the tired fighters enter,
To harvest the victory.
Now, to everybody's surprise,
All who dares to pass the door,
Instantly get slaughtered by
the angry wrath of Teador.
Tired, beaten, bloodcovered group
Of sad albians goes to home.
Their own precious relic's taken:
It was raided by the trolls.
What's the moral of the story,
You must figure it out.
I have to stop this writing right now,
My eagle-feather dries out.
Some of them we forget, some of them take place in the Book of Knowledge.
My cabalist from the distant plane sent me this roll, to share with you.
Epic of a sad sunday
Lets go, raid these hibernians,
We fight and take their strength relic!
And Albion rides through ranges -
Here begins our sad epic.
Emain is still and silent,
Big troll guards sit on the gate.
"Sumthing's coming!" says one of them,
And watches at the distant east.
Wut is that, a giant dust-snake?
Newa seen that mob befor'
They try to run but its now too late,
It was the rush of Albion.
So the proud armee runs and
takes away the elven keeps.
Firbolgs dying, keep lords lying,
And that's only the beginning.
Now the brave albian party
Gathers at the relic keep.
They rush and no relic guard
Stands the rage of paladins.
Defenders come, defenders fall,
The siege brigad defends the doors.
But some elves manage to sneak in,
That later causes big troubles.
Relic doors are hard to beat, but
Slowly break up al the tree.
And the tired fighters enter,
To harvest the victory.
Now, to everybody's surprise,
All who dares to pass the door,
Instantly get slaughtered by
the angry wrath of Teador.
Tired, beaten, bloodcovered group
Of sad albians goes to home.
Their own precious relic's taken:
It was raided by the trolls.
What's the moral of the story,
You must figure it out.
I have to stop this writing right now,
My eagle-feather dries out.
