Prelude:
Helneka, Grzegorz, Borys, and Andrezj,
A native of Cormyr, who's knights wore purple.
A travelling cult of Jergal, living a life most free
Exploring Amazandar, the ruins of the forgotten people
We serve the Pitiless one, Jergal
Lives devoted to his teachings,
We deliver the undead to the Seneschal,
After which, all our deeds put into writing.
***
Grzegorz, the just, always with the bow and arrow
An orphan like myself, his heart bears great sorrow.
An oath given to the Seneschal, like all my other brothers,
To collect the debt of unlife, among all others.
Borys, armed with nothing but his fists,
Once lead a life with shackles on his wrists.
In times of near-death he has learned to cherish life,
Hence he joined us in our mission to end unlife.
Andrezj and his trusty maul, always at the ready
A warrior through and through, his strike true and steady
A holy warrior of the Pallid Mask, always stern on a mission
He holds great honor, a proud member of the inquisition.
Helneka, a woman of many trades, a travelling bard
Nothing but her voice to assist, as she could not hit all that hard.
She granted the much-needed inspiration,
She, along with her three brothers, shared one vision.
A life worth living, and offering up to the stand,
When all four of them are gone, as they walk the dead lands.
A story of how each they lead their life of mission,
Each uttered word to the scroll, even unseen visions.
But tragedy struck as they ventured deep to Amazandar,
Deep within the ruins, the four of them found something bizarre.
A floating skull, with undead minions in tow,
They charge in for an attack, fighting toe-to-toe
Sounds of bones getting crushed and cracked,
When the four charged onwards, hindsight they lacked
Now all that remains is the demi-lich that they hunted
But all the fallen undead rose back up when confronted
First to act, Grzegorz with his steady aim,
A gust of wind summoned, the arrow his own life it claimed,
Andresj took up the front, providing good cover,
Borys look down to the archer, doubtful he will recover
He then took a note from Grzegorz pocket,
He then passed it to me, along with his beloved locket,
Borys joined the fray, nothing only with his bare fists,
He bought enough time, but soon his name joins the list.
Andresj exhausted, he once again shouldered his maul,
To face the demilich and its minions most foul,
He shouted back, "Helneka, get out of here, run!"
"This mission might've failed, but yours has just begun!"
Shook to the core, I gathered up all my might,
I ran and ran, until the screams disappears, unsure if its even right.
I hid in the nearby forest, two nights with no sleep,
After which I scavenged the battlefield, the note and the locket I still keep.
Nothing but scorched earth and crushed bones litters the ground,
Walking a bit further, remains of my brothers I have found.
A funerary pyre was then lit in midday,
Watching their remains, as it turns black, then gray.
I collected Andrezj skull, and the ashes of the other two,
Placed the ashes within, plugged it before the breeze blew.
In my pocket I found the folded note,
A shocking revelation that dried my throat.
"I swore before the Seneschal of the Crystal Spire
Should my life be snuffed out, body burned on the pyre.
To rise again, and become a tool of Jergal,
Correct the failures, my oath to the Seneschal!"
Helneka, Grzegorz, Borys, and Andrezj,
A native of Cormyr, who's knights wore purple.
A travelling cult of Jergal, living a life most free
Exploring Amazandar, the ruins of the forgotten people
We serve the Pitiless one, Jergal
Lives devoted to his teachings,
We deliver the undead to the Seneschal,
After which, all our deeds put into writing.
***
Grzegorz, the just, always with the bow and arrow
An orphan like myself, his heart bears great sorrow.
An oath given to the Seneschal, like all my other brothers,
To collect the debt of unlife, among all others.
Borys, armed with nothing but his fists,
Once lead a life with shackles on his wrists.
In times of near-death he has learned to cherish life,
Hence he joined us in our mission to end unlife.
Andrezj and his trusty maul, always at the ready
A warrior through and through, his strike true and steady
A holy warrior of the Pallid Mask, always stern on a mission
He holds great honor, a proud member of the inquisition.
Helneka, a woman of many trades, a travelling bard
Nothing but her voice to assist, as she could not hit all that hard.
She granted the much-needed inspiration,
She, along with her three brothers, shared one vision.
A life worth living, and offering up to the stand,
When all four of them are gone, as they walk the dead lands.
A story of how each they lead their life of mission,
Each uttered word to the scroll, even unseen visions.
But tragedy struck as they ventured deep to Amazandar,
Deep within the ruins, the four of them found something bizarre.
A floating skull, with undead minions in tow,
They charge in for an attack, fighting toe-to-toe
Sounds of bones getting crushed and cracked,
When the four charged onwards, hindsight they lacked
Now all that remains is the demi-lich that they hunted
But all the fallen undead rose back up when confronted
First to act, Grzegorz with his steady aim,
A gust of wind summoned, the arrow his own life it claimed,
Andresj took up the front, providing good cover,
Borys look down to the archer, doubtful he will recover
He then took a note from Grzegorz pocket,
He then passed it to me, along with his beloved locket,
Borys joined the fray, nothing only with his bare fists,
He bought enough time, but soon his name joins the list.
Andresj exhausted, he once again shouldered his maul,
To face the demilich and its minions most foul,
He shouted back, "Helneka, get out of here, run!"
"This mission might've failed, but yours has just begun!"
Shook to the core, I gathered up all my might,
I ran and ran, until the screams disappears, unsure if its even right.
I hid in the nearby forest, two nights with no sleep,
After which I scavenged the battlefield, the note and the locket I still keep.
Nothing but scorched earth and crushed bones litters the ground,
Walking a bit further, remains of my brothers I have found.
A funerary pyre was then lit in midday,
Watching their remains, as it turns black, then gray.
I collected Andrezj skull, and the ashes of the other two,
Placed the ashes within, plugged it before the breeze blew.
In my pocket I found the folded note,
A shocking revelation that dried my throat.
"I swore before the Seneschal of the Crystal Spire
Should my life be snuffed out, body burned on the pyre.
To rise again, and become a tool of Jergal,
Correct the failures, my oath to the Seneschal!"