O Milil, true left hand of Oghma wise,
Give favor to this tale true,
Of woe-besieged Nightstone town!
'Gainst the eaves of Ardeep's leaves,
Nightstone rose 'round dark obsidian;
From keep on high the Lady Nandar ruled,
Noble of name and soul, weep she did,
For goblins, craven and cunning alike,
Did harry the stout folk of her Nightstone.
Sagely Lady of the ebon stone,
She sounded forth a cry sent wide,
Calling those both brave and true.
Six did hark to Nandar's plight;
Now hear of these adventurers bold!
Crafty Breer, quick of finger and of blade;
Faithful Fennwick, chosen by the Sparkling Wit;
Stalwart Frank, warrior sworn to deep Mithril Hall;
Wild Rin, kith to all that flies or stalks or swims;
Innocent Ysmallia, wide-eyed and otherworldly;
Last, lovely Lady Ketriana, silver-tongued and clever.
'Tward Nightstone village northward bound,
Yea! Greater calamity upon Nightstone fell!
Fell stone fallen from bright skies so blue,
In fright the folk did flee their home.
Fled they to hill and dampest cave,
Where they knew not the goblins laired!
'Twas thus the adventurers came to town,
Empty but for rabid goblin fiends.
Great battle raged through temple and green,
Stout Frank did take a goblin's head;
Tumbled from its shoulders to wet the earth with blood.
Sorcerous Ysma brought many to their knees;
They fell before her call to dreams and sleep.
When quiet came again to Nightstone fair,
Among the rubble a fair maid was found.
Half-elven lady of darkened hope.
Though lovely, this maid proved false,
Against her rescuers she turned;
Knavish counselors she called forth,
Rapacious Zhent to Nightstone came.
Greed lay within their blackened hearts,
They sought to usurp dear Nightstone's heart.
Though clever Ketriana bound their desire,
Words and ink their ambitions checked by law.
Then into Nightstone town they came;
Serpents Seven, foul ophidian all.
Upon the dawn, foul bedfellows allies made;
War horns of orcs called with the morn,
Most desperate a horde charged forth;
Upon Nightstone's walls their ranks did break.
The faith of Fennwick and lo!
The magic of Ysma, did slay the orcish general.
Though the second orc did take his general's horn;
The troops he rallied and they marched forth.
Down fell Nightstone's drawbridge,
And cross the moat the orc scourge ran.
Within the gates of Nightstone town,
The last orcs fell to spells and blades.
The town of Nightstone, she was saved;
Though her folk still were scattered and enslaved.
No rest, our heroes did swear,
Before they returned the stout village folk.