A cinereous mist dampens the moors.
The sun is a silver speck in the sky.
The kingdom, it withers under a curse,
An ancient foe that torments its people.
An imperious lizard chuffs in its lair,
A forge of fire and smoke in the mountain.
It slithers and sleeps on piles of treasure,
A beast that was old when the stars were born.
All who have challenged it have died in vain,
Trying to win freedom for the kingdom,
Or for the wealth and glory for themselves,
Their bones are piled up high as a warning.
Here now, another comes to test the wyrm.
A brazen girl carrying a long spear,
Wearing a helmet too large for her head.
She is her father’s daughter in chain mail.
She steps into the dragon’s lair with pride,
Her cloak billows in the breath of its sleep.
So long has it been since…
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