The scourge

Over the mountains cold,
Wherein dwelt hoards of old,
On the crossroads, follow the ford,
Cross the ravine, and then the fjord.

Pass beneath the hill,
With only a strong will.
Through caverns withered, to the still,
The trees like torches, leaving till.

In the misty forest,
Past barrows dark and bogs weary,
Along the wall of stone purest,
We arrive at the quarry

To find what eclipse reveals,
A passage long-forgotten.
Above trenches of blood and trials,
Far above on bridge forbidden.

At nightingale's sepulcher,
We slew the guardian, no more a ravager.
By the bright sunshine, beyond its remains,
Rich enchanted glory, held our eyes in chains.

Unbeknownst to us,
The harbinger foretold of war.
The chaos that consumes things thus,
Runs rampant like a raging boar.

With black wings and sorrow,
The Beast would rise the morrow,
And we, the misbegotten,
would return the gains ill gotten.

In battle of prowess and valor,
The Alliance grew with pallor.
In the midst of steely blades,
Spirits were lost in leafy glades.

Our company of eight divided,
Amidst despair and roar,
The Alliance ascended,
But two of us were no more.

In the aftermath,
We chose our own path.
Into depths of ire, shadow, mire,
We found the beast in caves of fire.

I was first to fall,
I slipped into the realm eternal.
A phantom heard my call,
An emissary of his kin nocturnal.

"Before the storm clouds towered,
With magical threads enweaved,
We forged a blade empowered,
To avenge all allies grieved."

In the amalgamation of hate,
I returned, to find and embrace fate.
Out of the fray, with sword to flaunt,
I fled up the mount, the Beast to taunt.

The Beast fell not, I escaped with fear,
I witnessed war that grew on ere
I yearned for the infernal conflict to end,
I turned to find my ethereal friend.

Beneath the clouds of gloomy hue,
The phantom explained what was true,
"The Beast, a shadow unbound and unfurled,
With a hunger to devour the world."

"Ascend to the eternal realm,
Far from the mystical forge, in shade,
At the house with sigil of fiery helm,
Lives he whose brilliance has been grayed.

So we voyaged far to the smith's abode,
And upon the emblem of the helm, we knocked.
Muscles rippling, the eyes of a toad,
He bade us enter, but his expression mocked.

We entered the blazing smithy,
With its pits of smoldering coal.
He took hammer and steel most withy,
To shape the blade with might of a troll.

Hammer blows echoed, an eternity passed,
Then he returned, eyes still filled with zeal.
He presented the sword, the die was now cast,
Once more we journeyed, our fate to seal.

Weary and weak, we beheld our rival,
Ignorant still of our recent arrival.
In that protected instant the two of us formed,
A devious plan, while the Beast still stormed.

I raced to the summit of the peak,
Round which the Beast flew full of pride.
"He has a place that you must seek,
Beneath the wing, you must pierce his side."

The phantom's words rang loud and true,
I leaped on His back, drove home the blade,
The Beast screamed loudly and Death's trumpets blew,
He crashed to the earth, beyond all aid.

In the eyes of the Alliance, I emerged victorious,
I refused all attempts to name me "Glorious."
Seven days I returned on the path well-known,
Now I write my story, with words of my own.