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

Gathered all around me, are my Elven kin
Out here in the wild, it seemed they could not win
The most beautiful of cities, smashed by giant hands
Sadly all elves have, to leave the Elven lands
Eleven elves remain, including one human girl
Laughter reaches my ears, causing me to whirl

Where my kin they stood, ten Elves they still remain
But at once I realize, they do not look the same
Blackest skin and fairest hair, how could this come about
Instincts taking over, I then let out a shout
The dark elves are surprised, as I leap towards them all
Grabbing the human girl, running while going pall

Always serving the people, a god must have been with me
For yet against the odds, I actually manage to flee
Flee towards the human lands, still untouched by battle
I will have to take us there, like a shepherd and his cattle
Maybe when we once arrive, I will begin again
I shall kill and decimate, this is not the end