About: The Legend of the Scourgeslayer

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An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

An old man sits with his back to a fire. In his hand is a guitar almost as old as him. He beckons to all the children in the room. "Gather round children, for the story of Euphaleric." He strums a few deep resounding notes that echo within the chests of everyone present. "There he was, a pinnacle of Warrior-hood and masculinity.. In his hands he bore a mighty hammer and a great axe.." The men in the room nod their heads as one to the rhythm of the old man's guitar. "His well spirited but ultimately inferior friends where sprawled helpless around him.." "..but not our hero."

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rdfs:label	The Legend of the Scourgeslayer
rdfs:comment	An old man sits with his back to a fire. In his hand is a guitar almost as old as him. He beckons to all the children in the room. "Gather round children, for the story of Euphaleric." He strums a few deep resounding notes that echo within the chests of everyone present. "There he was, a pinnacle of Warrior-hood and masculinity.. In his hands he bore a mighty hammer and a great axe.." The men in the room nod their heads as one to the rhythm of the old man's guitar. "His well spirited but ultimately inferior friends where sprawled helpless around him.." "..but not our hero."
dcterms:subject	Euphaleric
abstract	An old man sits with his back to a fire. In his hand is a guitar almost as old as him. He beckons to all the children in the room. "Gather round children, for the story of Euphaleric." He strums a few deep resounding notes that echo within the chests of everyone present. "There he was, a pinnacle of Warrior-hood and masculinity.. In his hands he bore a mighty hammer and a great axe.." The men in the room nod their heads as one to the rhythm of the old man's guitar. "His well spirited but ultimately inferior friends where sprawled helpless around him.." The listeners lean closer to the warmth of the fire, eager to hear the same story they've heard countless time before. "The mighty lich lord, Kel'Thuzad stared down at him with a look that would freeze the souls of most men.." The wind outside picks up and a shutter is blown open! An icy gale assaults the inhabitants of the room but they're too transfixed on the man near the fire to even think of closing it. They remain where they are, shivering. "..but not our hero." The children stare up in wide wonder at the old man, dreams of this glorious hero of legend already forming in their heads. "And though his armor was frail and lacking in the appropriate enchantments he did not flinch from his destiny, whatever it may be..." The old man changes the pace on his guitar, the music building to a near climax. "He howled a mighty oath, 'VICTORY FOR SYLVANAS!', and threw himself at his enemy!" The men cheered at the courage of this man! The women swooned in envy of the woman the hero pledged all his conquests to. "With a resounding echo of cold metal on even colder bone he brought the Lich down, defeating the terror of the land in single combat." The children laugh with easy joy! The shining figure in their minds smashing their own boogiemen out of existence! The old man sets the guitar down and sips from his cup. "And that's the legend of the Scourgeslayer, children." --Euphaleric 06:24, April 15, 2011 (UTC)

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