'With the little they had, the Monks in the Northern Fringes
hired a small troop of mercenaries to protect then from an unnameable enemy.
"I wondered off towards the outer perimeter on my own, the cold,
its in the dead of winter, who would attack these cloaks?" Constantly
freeing the blade from its leathery sheaf least it sticks, the rest seemed to be happily nested in the
crumbling western tower, drinking, hiding from the cold.
"After all who would invade a place like this?
It Seemed to have happened once before, what sort of religion is this anyways?"
The benevolence of the statues screamed to run in the opposite direction.'