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| - A pile of bones; a tribute to the fallen who had come after the Book. The skull crested upon it glowed tirelessly, hungrily. Abiding its freedom. The downs were restless today it knew. For more adventures or warriors, or -- ah it did not matter. All would pay tribute among the bones. The dancing skeletons stopped their mindless ritual, the intruders had arrived. The Lich was afraid, the Book had sensed. Much to its delight. Two High Elves and a Troll, an interesting, and ironic group. Clashing of swords and dagger approached, and the Book felt their presence closer and closer. /Ahmras
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| abstract
| - A pile of bones; a tribute to the fallen who had come after the Book. The skull crested upon it glowed tirelessly, hungrily. Abiding its freedom. The downs were restless today it knew. For more adventures or warriors, or -- ah it did not matter. All would pay tribute among the bones. The dancing skeletons stopped their mindless ritual, the intruders had arrived. The Lich was afraid, the Book had sensed. Much to its delight. Two High Elves and a Troll, an interesting, and ironic group. Clashing of swords and dagger approached, and the Book felt their presence closer and closer. Release me. It told the Lich. Release me and your life is spared, an oath. Foolishly the Lich discarded the Book and made haste. This only made the Book calls more determined as at last, the three invaders arrived. They wore the Sigil of the Horde, embroidered in white on their crimson red Tabards. An arrow struck home, its blunt weapon sticking through the Lich chest. It began to cast. In answer a lightning strike slash cut through his back. One of the High Elves had appeared behind him. The Lich wailed the most horrendous of screams. The Book rejoiced. The Troll administered the last blow, as their enemy; the Lich, faded slowly. The Book began releasing its aura, anticipating that one of the power-hungry High Elves would notice. One did. “Narzor, leave it be,” his brother Wharf ordered. But the High Elf was too compelled, and soon the lanky Troll budded in. “The Lich be clutching this in his hand Elfmons. Me seen it with me own eyes.” Narzor never held his eyes off the Book cover. “There is a name on it,” he said. Wharf, Narzor’s brother, who was retrieving his fired arrows from the corpses, came closer. He glanced at the Troll. “Are you certain Wazarg?” Wazarg gave him a drunken nod, and took another sip from the liquor the Troll always carried with him. “Cover it up. We’ll take it with us. Calchas must hear of this.” Narzor was fingering the glowing skull, an unknown desire dwelling in the bowels of his heart. “I found it,” he stated more than said. “Aye. That you did.” Wharf gave him an uncertain glance, before folding a cloth around the Book. The Book was in ecstasy, it was on its way to freedom. And every second was it calling to others, never considering the present captors his Masters. Deep in Outland, a different Book sensed its Brothers joy and joined him in its bliss. When they would reunite, Gandling’s Legacy would blossom. /Ahmras
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)