Don your Armor, take your Sword and Shield. I am in Need of you now.
Chant the Warrior Songs of Old, prepare yourself with iron Mind. Your
Strength is of Value now. I wont tell you what we fight, or where,
or whom. I just need your Protection now. For I am weak.
You are the Idol of my Power. You are what I could not always be.
Rise and answer the Challenge. My Power is yours, the meager Remnant
that I possess. All Magic of darker Realms is with you, from
deepest Sources, most hidden Secrets, unbeknownst to Mortal Eye.
Thus ready, you shalt stand guard, at the Gate to this well known
Garden of black-thorned Roses, while I venture into it, amidst
dying Flowers, decrepit sunken Walls and the Pavillion of Lost
Dreams. There I shall stay for an Eternity, silent and suffering.
It will take Time to heal, Black Knight, stand vigilant. Every
Visitor shall be questioned, or attacked if an Enemy. Maybe,
when the Signs are right, one Visitor shall come, to heal and
mend my Wounds, to reconcile with my Bitterness.
Look! In that Corner, there lies your Armor, the white one,
bloodstained and wet of Tears, its not your Blood, and not
your Tears. What Massacre have you committed, mad Man? Whom
have you hurt that cared for you?
The old Creed is true: nothing can hurt a Shadow. and a Shadow
cant hurt anyone.