An old parchment long hidden away,
buried in the crypts for all of it's days.
A wicked soul, slowly began to uncover,
The parchment that summons, the mighty
The sun slowly rose as the autumn wind whistled,
The peace in the lands halted, followed by a ripple.
Thunder began crashing as lightning shimmered,
Clouds blanketed the sky as the light quickly dimmered.
The kingdom in panic, quickly running for shelter,
Childrens' screams echoed as they vanished into the cellars.
Heroes emerged, as they felt an evil presence,
A figure in the murky shadows, ever so evanescence.
An evil laugh could be heard all throughout the lands,
When suddenly an army of the dead began to expand.
A nefarious battle began to take place,
As the families in the cellars began to embrace.
The army of the dead had finally began to dwindle,
When suddenly the kingdoms palace kindled,
The fire abalze, as a shadowy figure emerged,
The necromancer came into view, suddenly concerned.
Overwhelmed and outnumbered, our heroes began to fall,
When an old man entered the battle, everyone stalled.
An old parchment with instructions was the only key,
To contain the necromancers power, and our city to be free.
A spell was chanted, as the remaining heroes fought on,
The old man urged forward, a symbol he now stands on.
A luminant green aura fell violently from the skies,
The necromancer let out a yell, at his final demise.
To this day, his voice can still be heard.
To those brave enough to chant his words.
Forbidden indeed. Regardless the answer,
Thou shall not read the scripture,
that summons the necromancer.
~ FireSlash ~