The way was harsh and cold; No mercy
My men long dead from thirst and scurvy
And I alone then took the journey
Weak from hunger and days being thirsty
I made my way past desolation
Past lands long cursed by incantations
Past ancient ruins of fallen nations
And ghosts and figures in strange formations
With watching eyes of pain and hate
Through crooked paths that once were straight
Onward past the darkest places
Where creatures dwell that have no faces
And those that do might be a killer
And I their victim, or worse their dinner,
Their faces stern and hard and bitter
Some did speak but just a whisper
And so I traveled far through winter
Until all was gone except my shiver
Until at last I reached North River
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