Pax-Corvus Poem

This is the story of Corvus Nightwalker.

I am not he, and he not I, though I know him well.

Upon the hill planes of the Homeland, he rode.

The halflings marching in a row to bondage.

We had both been there.

He and I, shackled as abominations, meant to be sold

To be sold to the highest bidder

We were freed by a kind woman,

Whose grace surpassed her kindness.

To Corvus, he gave a bow, the to one which he still holds

“It's name: Liberation”

And so it fulfilled its name

Many a man died by its tune

The lute-like strings flying under the fingers

Under the fingers of a virtuoso of death.

Black fletched bolts flew

Through the inky black shackles of bondage

A bloody feather, a reminder of their fate.

I passed taken by his shadow, and all forgot but him.

He continued, more zealous than before

Upon the hills of Xifang, he rode.

To the depths of Diadac’s wrath.

The one follows from the mu had sight

And whispered the name to Death: “Corvus Nightwalker”

He took the deal,

Stripped of his soul,

Now Hatred walks the earth.

Lost of love.

-Pax Mus Nightwalker