"A gentle buzz filled tha air, yet everything was still, even the rabbits longest hair. A storm was brewing in the sky, above the mountains ever so high. The wolves ran in a dreaful fright, owls and birds flew off into the night. The hare and mice all but ran, the cattle and sheep were left to the protection of man. Something was coming and appearing fast; taking a'hold of the world in a titans gr
asp. The kingdoms land was shrowded in fear, from the darkness came all the creatures that but cackled and let of a snear.
The forest was the first to fall, the oaks and greens ever so tall. The Faries, the Elves and the woodfolk too; for there was nothing these peaceful folk could do. The darkness swept over the land, covering village, town and traveling band. For there seemed to be none that could escape it's grasp; for it seemed this world was but not meant to last. A rattle of thunder and spike of fire, all was but the warning to his highness; to his sire. The walls of the city could not hold flast, the light was fading and the darkness took hold and meant to last. But in these walls lay the loyal men, true to their word and loyal to the end. A gaggle of Faries, Woodfolk and Elves; had stolen away to save themselves. Armed with courage and without fears, they all but stood ready to face their fate with angry solemn tears .
A cattler of iron against the wood, a smashing and bashing came to where the gate but stood. Armed with faith and a just cause in sight, the free folks of the remaining world made to make their fight. The Elves that came and stood on the walls, with their bows and arrows which stood with them were so elegantly tall. The Faries and the Woodfolk too, stood at the back with their magic to brew and stew. Whatever came would find a fright, their screams of suprise and demise would echo in this blackest of night. The Men themselves stood along the dimely lit streets, ready to face whatever foe to meet. A shining armour of lighting white, a sparkling sword of the lands strongest might. Some were but old and some were but young, but all had answered the call and found themselves ready and strung.
Then the people heard the wicked cry, leaping at the walls and falling from the sky:
" Smash these ranks, and smash these men. Destroy this land completely, let it never be whole again ".
It was the voice of the evil one, the fickle foe of which all nightmares were sung. His dark magic sprang to his command, his wicked force was but like another hand. Of Goblins and Orcs and other Demons too, this but to name the very fickle few. The armoured trolls smashed at the walls, the a'cursed battering ram made for the gate to find this problem all but solved:
" Take these walls and strike it with thunder, smash their gate and throw this kingdom asunder. Rip out the heart and rip out the light, utterly destroy these people and rid them from my sight. "
As the battle raged beyond and above, the remaing people huddled together like dammed doves. But as they sat, a'waiting their fate, along came one of the yonder heros' and proudly he did state:
" Hold the line my men, hold the line I bloody cry!. We'll cast this darkness all away; and clear the clouds from the sky. Fear not the wicked cold, fear not the wicked one. For when the dust but settles and sun is a'rising, on the ground he'll be all dead slung.
With this the hero did state, and a cry from people did bring forth good cheer; for in this moment, his words washed away all the fear. tall."
Something I wrote when I got bored.