The Nordic takes off running down the trail, we have got to make it to the Holy well,

Before the swirling fog kills everything, can we make it only time will tell,

He jumps the small river without stopping, then pulls his hood up over his head,

Some tentacles of fog reach the stone arch, as he pushes thru the closer it gets.

Pulling vapours behind him we just make it, once the door shuts the vapours disappear,

Lying there panting and out of breath, beside the Holy waters we are safe here,

We can hear them outside in the fog, creatures that are not from this world,

Long finger nails scraping like knives, all around the strong stone walls.

 

Some creatures cry out in agony and pain, as something bigger rips them to bits,

This has no effect on the Nordic; inside his mind I am scared to bits,

 After he catches his breath he sits down, keen eyes searching for any little clues,

Suddenly he pushes on a coloured stone, the wall opens and we break on through.

A damp musky smell lies heavy on the air, as the Nordic feels his way forward,

This Nordic may have many short Cummings, but no one could ever call him a coward,

Cobwebs cover his long hair and shoulders, and then he feels cold air on my skin,

We have been walking for hours, now we have reached another secret opening.

 

The Nordic holds his breath and listens, and then he rolls back the round stone door,

No traces of the killer fog remains outside, instinctively he throws himself onto the floor,

At least six arrows fly past into the darkness, he is already up and running for cover,

The archers never even see him coming, in five minutes flat it was all over.

Just like the others he spits on their faces, horrible creatures from the pits of hell,

How many more traps lie in wait for us, are we going to die here who can tell,

Deep inside my mind I can feel it coming, I tried to warn him but it was too late,

A wall of black magic wraps around us, almost suffocating the Nordic with hate.

 

The talisman appears to me in my mind, calling on my ancestors from generations past,

From the first of my bloodline they answer, a powerful force that drives the magic back,

But we are not out of the woods yet, as the powerful force is beginning to give way,

It was then that the force that had awoken the Nordic decides to come out to play.

It pushes the darkness away from the Nordic, and shows us the talisman’s exact location,

Now the quest has become even more dangerous, as the darkness knows our destination,

Up until now the darkness had no idea the talisman had been hidden right under their nose,

They will try to bury it forever, for even they cannot destroy it with all of their powers.

 

Back into the tunnel we must go, in our haste to avoid the fog we missed our chance,

When the Nordic pushed the coloured stone, as we rushed we never felt its presence,

Now as we approach the tunnel with stealth, the Nordic stops suddenly and stares,

At first nothing looks out of place, but now we can feel it consume the very air.

All around us the black magic is closing in, and it’s moving much faster than the fog,

In front of the entrance that we now run towards, stand two savage Devil dogs,

The Nordic kills the first one with a knife, but the second one jumps onto his back,

He rips out its throat with his bare hands, we run into the tunnel just as they attack.

   

 

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