For the Wizard’s Tower called them all.
Of the ones who came before, no mind was paid.
For each would prevail where others had fallen.
Each to make a legend.
And legend did they reach.
Bound to protect that which they sought to claim.
Avarice given purpose
And a single thought burns.
“What is not mine, shall never be yours.”
Into the Dark you go.
Down below, so very cold.
Shadows that hug and hide a death.
Sounds too loud and circling.
Yes, into the Dark you go.
For treasures untold.
But are all dangers known?
And will you be seen
Once again in the Sun?
The smile was now theirs, as they had proved to the world their worth.
Their names were legend. Their deeds sung.
Coin they had, but did not need.
Always those who paid for the priviledge of their company.
The journey back to their home, so small and quiet now.
And the friendship held, grown even deeper.
Always would they be bonded.
Always together to remember the one lost.
All, and yet nothing.
The will must be there.
The learning, the time spent.
The desire to KNOW THIS. DO THIS.
To know what others know, yet make it your own.
The thrill of creation, of a new spell to bear your name.
To continue beyond the now, beyond this life. To be remembered.
To gauge the distance.
The movements of the target.
What, if any, cover might interfere.
If it can be done quietly, quickly.
The breath drawn and held.
The steady flick of the fingers.
And the slipping away.
The thrill of melee
Being close enough to see their eyes, feel their breath.
To be face to face, to see the moment when death comes.
To have to think about guarding even more than attacking.
The blood rushing, the heart pounding.
Life is rarely better than when death is so close.