4-08 We Love The Thrill скачать в хорошем качестве

4-08 We Love The Thrill

From distant roads the people came, All called to mourn the duchess’ name. A priest then promised life from death, Yet stole the guards’ and guests’ last breath. The hall grew cold, the guests fell still, The duke was twisted by dark will. Steel was drawn, the wards gave way, We faced the lich — he fled that day. We chase the dark through curse and rune. No turning back, no sun, no moon— With song and magic, sword and quill We’re heroes, friend. We love the thrill. Then through the smoke and embers near, Five heroes stood with purpose clear. Dusty, ranger, cold and spare, An elven fist with silent glare. Mikenna, proud and noble bard Her tongue is sharp, her glare is hard. Elle moves with wit and wrath displayed, A towering beauty, self-remade. Larsa looms, both fierce and kind, With steel and justice well-aligned. Lina Erin, tiefling bard, With humble heart and wit unmarred. The duke reclaimed his shattered will, And gave us charge both grim and ill: “Pursue the lich through northern frost, Bring justice for all that’s been lost.” At morning gray, our Dusty’s gone, No word, no trace to linger on. We felt the loss, but not for long— For fate drew more, our ranks grew strong. Young Kyvin stepped from sheltered stone, A boy untested, on his own. He dreamed of knighthood, bright and fair, Of shining steel and honor rare. At Kyvin’s heel ran Puca true, A faithful hound the whole way through. Then Huio came with axe in hand, A raging force from distant land. With bellowed cry and fearless stride, They met our cause and joined our side. We chase the dark through curse and rune. No turning back, no sun, no moon— With song and magic, sword and quill We’re heroes, friend. We love the thrill. We crossed the Darrow river wide, Where one soul lived while others died. Andervale burned in choking flame, The dead surged forth to stake their claim. Prince Arthur held the battered line, His shining steel in grim design. With spell and blade we drove them back, The lich withdrew to shadowed black. Yet Kyvin bowed to oath and chain, A knighthood bound in secret pain. We swore the boy we would defend, We sailed as one through death’s dark end. Bidet steered us through storm and wave, The northern seas our course to brave. In frozen wilds we found our guide, Zyvanah sworn to balance’s side. She traced the blight through root and stone, Where shrine and ley had bled alone. We reached the shrine where blight had grown, And faced the dead where rot was sown. A blighted Why-vern split the sky, We struck it down where shadows lie. We broke their ranks and cleared the stain, And purged the ley of rot and pain. Then Lina’s song cut clean and true— The Why-vern stirred, a knight rose too. We named the Why-vern Rhyme that day; The shrine could mend what death had frayed. It then restored what had been torn, Kyvin stood free, no longer sworn. Within the frost the lich was found, Where death had ruled on kurs-sed ground. Then Rhyme returned with kin in cry, And Why-verns swept the broken sky. Together bound in final stand, We struck the lich with spell and hand. The tyrant fell, his curse undone, And frost gave way to rising sun. We chase the dark through curse and rune. No turning back, no sun, no moon— With song and magic, sword and quill We’re heroes, friend. We love the thrill.