A caravan of outcasts marches, bound as thieves
All of them save one dishonest to the core
But The One plays the role as if he'd lived it before
Journeying further and further into a jade green mystery
One thief perishes in a fall, having stepped carelessly
The promise of a king's fortune pushes them forth
Always, always, always and hastily to the North
The nascent pink of dawn glows at the horizon
It cooks the dying night, a relief from lightless boredom
The men welcome the day with renewed energy
Until a scattering of glowing eyes appears in the leaves
They aren't alone and The One is first to see them
Are they fairies? Goblins? Perhaps mischievous mermen?
The thieves slow their pace and ready their swords
When the leader of the Watchers steps slowly forward
As if of the shadows themselves the creature appears
A caustic, dark stare bewitches and fears
The thieves are confused yet The One steadies them
Before confronting the beast, he whispers: "Be ready, men."
"Pronounce yourself, wight. We are armed!" The One says
The Watcher obliges and reveals a purplish, contorted head
"Hsssshhhhhhh..." It hisses in disapproval in startling chorus
With the army of other wights spread out through the forest
"You come to our land in search of treasure, do you not?"
As black steam rises around it, It's voice cackles and pops
"How foolish of you to presume it unguarded...such folly."
"Figured you'd just pillage this place and dance off jolly?"
The sinister laughter of the demons resounds in the morn
It is devilish and confident, piercing and scorned
"We have come for gold and jewels, but not more than we need"
"For long and healthy lives for us and our families."
The beast recoils in disgust as the men band closer
The One feels ready to fight, but his men aren't so sure.
Who knows the number of demons that lay anxiously in wait
Surely watching with keen eyes for the end of this debate
"Fools, all of you!" the wight screams out, "The stupidity and gall..."
"...you have to venture here, and to expect anything at all.
We'll rend then flesh from your bones and drain you of all life
Until your corpses stack so high that they block the moonlight!"
A muffled cry rings out from the rear of the mens ranks
As the first of them falls to an attack on their flank
The One draws his rapier and stands ready for battle
But the men are surprised; even the best of them scatter
Suddenly a rallying cry from The One resounds forth
"This is our time, men! Bring them down with your swords!"
A flash of blackness darts quickly, almost too fast to mark
But a skillful parry from The One ends the threat in the dark
Looking across the skirmish, The One sees his men
One by one being killed, their lives each being ended
But losing hope was never an option for him
So The One redoubles his efforts and fights for the win
Black blood from a wight splashes across The One's face
It burns as it soaks and has an awful, foul taste
A demonic howl indicating that a wight had been killed
Gives rise to confidence on the men's battlefield
"They're breaking!" he says, giving heart to his party
"Strike hard at their throats and let's end this Dark Army!"
And still on they fight, with unmatched fervor and skill
Until finally, one by one, the wights are all killed.
A hush falls over the scene and the darkness seems lifted
The One then hopes the morale of his men shifted
"There may be more left, so mind your surroundings"
The One yells out with force, his hope for a win mounting
But there are no ears to hear him, and his men are all dead.
The only sign of life comes from a twitching corpse with no head
The One stands alone in a scene of crimson black
The blood of his men soak the ground, life never to get back
"Thieves you all were, and you died just as such.
Your valor was strong, though your honor not so much
But I shan't for a moment let this minor setback
Keep me from the riches that I vowed to get back."
