FORGEMASTER

When Balthazar's dark minions caught Valorn unaware,
they tore down Milltown's northern gate and slew the sentry there.
And standing in the ruins were a rogue of stealth and skill,
a warrior in scarlet and a cleric strong of will.
The rogue he sought a mountain forge, for well he knew the land;
and there he swore a mighty oath the gates again would stand.

He took his hammer to the forge; the work was well begun.
Through all the marcs of day and night, from dawn to setting sun,
he pounded out the hinges, and he never seemed to tire,
but taught the forge his mastery of metal and of fire.
His strokes were strong and steadfast, and by skill of eye and hand
he strove to keep his promise that the gates again would stand.

But Balthazar, that baleful one, while he was thus employed,
sent minions to attack the forge, and all his work destroyed.
Did he allow this brief defeat to turn him from his path?
Not he; he stirred the fire again, and blew the bellows' breath,
he gathered scraps of metal scattered on the forge's floor,
and pounding on the anvil he plied his trade once more.

And now a drumming sounded, like a horrid heavy tread,
and demons from the Golden Age, those evil ones of dread,
came storming into Milltown, an army of despair,
but where the demons threatened, Valorn's heroes too were there.
The heroes fought in Milltown back to back and side by side,
to guard the builders of the gates, though in the dark they died.

They called on Cory's light and on the mighty name of Ben,
while three intrepid heroes strove to raise the gates again,
until in spite of Balthazar and battles long and hard,
the three their work completed, and the gates were shut and barred.
And now the shouts re-echo through this strong and war-torn land:
The Forge has met its Master, and the gates of Milltown stand.