The Mists of Rankene


Young Randson was the first to see
The mist form in the sky
He watched it grow so rapidly
Like a sooty, blackened, dye

He raised his Gred shell horn
Then brought it to his lips
Emitting a growling warning note
As the Sun fell to eclipse

Confusion quickly swept the camp
There was fear in each mans eye
How could they all have strove so hard
Just for this place now to die

Grantor stood and took control
His commands he bellowed loud
He had to bring back order
To this frightened, scattered crowd

To travel now was madness
They had to sit this out
He gave each one a task to do
To bring this now about

Whilst some rounded the Escamants
Others searched for wood
They moved the camp to waters edge
Where the mighty Trantum stood

Four Sorins they lay out the storm
No change to day or night
An eerie lonely period
No Sun or Stars to light

Then on that Farran morning
Mist lifted as it came
Emerging from their hurried dens
To a forest just the same



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Synopsis
fantasy
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