The second part of a long poem chronicling the life of the third of my major role-playing characters, the bladesinger Zardilann Darhtill.

The giants march on forward, as elves they gather up arms
We will fight to the end, the forest will not be harmed
Waiting to defend, the greatest Elven city
Bravery is quickly replaced, by disappointment and self-pity
The order from the Queen, I will have to abide
Protecting a human brat, even with my life

Traveling abroad, human girl in tow
Giants wait in ambush, wanting me laid low
Seven giants are no match, for the greatest of Elven heroes
Compared to the likes of me, everybody is nothing but zeros
Dancing through the battlefield, whirling blade of death
Bodies soon to be everywhere, no giants will be left

Speaking ancient syllables, words that mean to kill
Crazed with battle lust, oh I feel the thrill
After sixty seconds, ground connects with elf
And it seems to me, I overestimated myself
After unknown time, consciousness arrive
Oh my head is pounding, as I open my eyes