Stories of valor are hard to come by in our time,
And I have a tale you might not have heard.
It is long and follows a pattern of rhyme,
But its account is rich in word.

In a time when danger roamed the earth,
And evil was always lurking around,
Was a place where heroes proved their worth,
And the courage of men was found.

My tale begins in the Kingdom of Arinor,
Ruled by the foolish King, Lornir.
He wanted his throne and nothing more,
And he convinced himself he had nothing to fear.

But the danger was there whether he willed it or not,
He failed to keep evil at bay.
Lornir was killed with one swift shot,
And darkness was free to do what it may.

Arinor plunged into despair,
And an evil wizard took the throne.
He was cunning and by no means fair,
He was a man filled with fury, and his name was Diratone.

Diratone was greedy and wanted more than he had,
And mainly he wanted power, no matter the cost.
He taxed the people, making them angry and mad,
And they began to feel as though all was lost.

The king promised to protect them and all they held dear,
He vowed to keep them safe from mythical beasts.
But while the people lost trust and began to fear,
Diratone enjoyed parties and lavish feasts.

Only a few years after Lornir’s death,
The realm was filled with sadness.
The people felt that there was no hope left,
For Diratone’s rage had become sheer madness.

Everyone feared the madness of their lord,
Finally one person disobeyed the king’s command.
He was a hunter and a master with a sword,
And his name was Jorand.

Jorand was ordered to burn a village to the ground,
And kill all those who got in his path.
He glared at the king and frowned,
Jorand now realized the extent of the King’s wrath.

Jorand vowed he would never do the deed.
And Diratone laughed in reply,
Diratone said that Jorand would be imprisoned if he did not succeed.
Jorand knew that if he didn’t obey, he would die.

“I’ll never do it!” Jorand shouted with all his might.
Diratone laughed, “Then you shall die.”
Jorand stood firm, “But I won’t give up without a fight,
And it is you who will be killed not I.”

Jorand left the fort and returned to the village he called home.
He packed up his bags and left the house.
Jorand looked around marking sure he was alone,
And then left quietly, not disturbing a mouse.

There was only one way to kill a wizard,
And he knew the item was hard to find.
He might have to face bandits or a fierce blizzard,
But for killing the king, it was the only thing he had in mind.

The object in mind, was the sword of Yalves,
It would kill the wizard king with one fatal blow.
He knew the sword belonged to the Elves,
And that was the only thing about it he did know.

He has to get to the elves in hurry.
Jorand didn’t know what the king would send after him.
He knew that there was no limit to the King’s fury,
And that only with sword he could win.

Jorand mounted his horse, the faithful Zanger,
And rushed through the forest as fast as he could.
He kept an eye out and looked for danger,
It was rumored that spirits lurked in this wood.

Jorand galloped through the night,
And crossed the Siroy River at dawn.
He covered his eye to shield them from the light,
And fought to suppress a yawn.

“I need some sleep,” he said to Zanger,
As he approached the shore of Sur Lake.
The two slept in an abandoned manager,
Until Zanger nudged him to wake.

A group of soldiers rode by,
And they stopped near a traveling nomad.
They walked and handed a picture to the guy,
He hoped he hadn’t heard the correctly, but he had.

The soldiers were talking about wanted man,
The nomad nodded and they went their separate ways.
He made sure that they were out of sight, grabbed Zanger’s harness and ran.
If he was caught, he would be a prisoner all his days.

Jorand reached the village when the sun was high in the sky,
He put on a cloak and covered his face.
He then looked for supplies he needed to buy,
Trying to keep hidden in the crowded place.

A man tapped his shoulder,
He jumped and looked the man in the eye.
They went to the edge of town and hid behind a large boulder.
The man was Jorand’s friend, Thomhi.

“I hear you’re in trouble,” Thomhi said with a grin.
Jorand nodded, “that is why I am in a hurry.”
Thomhi shook his head, “That’s not a position I’d like to be in.”
Jorand patted him on the back and told him not to worry.

Jorand told of his quest,
And asked Thomhi some advice on what to do.
Upon hearing the end, Thomhi had only one request.
Could he come too?

Jorand could not possibly refuse the one true friend he had,
And he would be glad to have company on his long task.
He told his friend yes and was truly glad.
Jorand laughed outright, I was wondering how long it would take you to ask?”

Thomhi smiled, “Things will be different now”
And Jorand knew he was right.
They had to get the sword but how?
One thing was certain, there would defiantly be a fight.

They sharpened blades that were dull,
And gathered what they needed.
An old man warned them to be careful,
Around here, those warnings should be heeded.

They headed out, Jorand and Thomhi,
Ready for whatever came their way.
They watched as the moon entered the sky.
The two left the village and road away.

Leaving the madness of Arinor,
They entered the Garnian Forest, which all should fear.
They weren’t in danger from the crown anymore,
But a feeling of menace was still near.

The forest was gloomy and warned of an attack.
It was a bit frightening to the two friends.
The moved on and did not look back,
They would save their fear until after the quest ends.