Where Night is Not Black

On the Desert Sand Sea stood the soldiers.
Athfar had for ages achieved for their army
A reputation of relentless ravaging of supplies
And cutting communications through the country
Putting a halt to the relentless rule of rage
That was the greatest ever growing like grasshoppers
Army of Asgothfa in all of the Athland
Despite this more tentative turn of tables
Athfar still held holdings in hardly anything
Substance of resources to rely on for hard times
Was at an amazingly low level of standing
The army despite devastating destruction it wrought
Would soon wither into nothing without moving to water
So desperate at the prospect of mass desertion
Commander moved his minions many miles to the edge of the dessert
And arrived at the springs of Silver Silence

There that day thousands from Athfar drank from the pool
Relieving their thirst and relaxing from the road
Yet something strange happened as some walked away
They fell fast to on every side like felled beasts
Blood gurgling out of their gaping mouths they gasped
Commander realized his many men dying called commands to halt
The dispensing of drink stopped decisively at once, but alas to late
Full five thousand lay dieing, and only two thousand fit for fight
Now they must travel a far distance to the River Undone to quench the thirst

Traveling by day and by night, having left their dieing comrades to their death
Sand Sea now far away the two thousand arrived arranged
Fearing for life lest they lose it by swords of Asgothfa
Now tempting fate by wondering while walking through
The land lorded by the large Asgothfa Terrors
Tempted by the waters tempest, they ran to the edge
And lapped up water. All except the astonished commander and three others
For out of the water came the Terrors falling fast and viciously
They cut down the whole group, as the commander continued his run
And went now back to the kingdom of Athland to raise
Up a new warrior breed, to defeat these new found beasts
But for now the lesson of supply and demand had been sadly learned
At the cost of a legion of his own men.

Alone he stood awaiting their arrival on the hill.

Night was coming, dark, and nothing moved in the north.

The south was silent amid the sounds.

To the east stood the ebbing shadows eternal,

The west wielded the last of the suns warm glow.

Now fell the flowering sun–all felt the cold.

Alone he stood, awaiting the arrival of his men.

Wandering through the wild woods they came.

His soldiery finding him saluted and stopped.

Readying themselves for raging rivers of blood.

Altogether stood the army of Athfar, from the north,

Sitting in Silence solidarity together, till dawn.

Alarmed altogether they stood astounded,

Before them lay line upon line of men,

Standing opposing every opportunity of escape.

Around them to the far distance they were arrayed.

The enemy strong enamored for the sight of blood.

A full host of Terrors, from the army of Asgothfa attacked,

Now standing, none seated, charging down never stopping.

The enemy approached fast, furiously fighting.

Like the Amazon, blood bled from broken bodies,

Arms lay lost amid legs of men who lost them.

Now numbers meant nothing, who could tell friend from foe,

Brother slew brother, foe fought friend, all was chaos.

The commander of Athfar caught a glimpse of crazy hope.

Maybe his men might yet hold strong, beat back this foe.

Now night nearly spent, from the east came light,

The west now holds hell’s unholy darkness.

Before his eyes the commander can craned see,

Full half his host still left alive, and but a score of his enemy.

Rallying his men he roars at them to roll down,

Upon the last of his foe he flings his fighters.

A battle of impossible odds has been won by him.

Silence slowly once more southward reigns.

And to the north his now victorious men march.