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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Maerdwyn" data-source="post: 384956" data-attributes="member: 835">A long, long time ago – I can still remember his frightened look  and the scream he cried.Still, I knew if I had my chance, that I could stab it with my lance,And maybe we could hang on for a while…But empty was the archer’s quiver; a claw had pierced him through the liver.Bad news he from us kept: he couldn’t take one more step.I can’t remember if he cried when the dragon tore out his insides.But something scared me deep inside, the day, the ranger died.  So..(Chorus)Bye, bye, oh, it’s time to fly!We should go before we end up like that elvish guy.If we’re lucky and we hide well, it might pass us by,And this won’t be the day that we die…this won’t be the day that we die.Can you make me invisible? Will it work on dragons juvenile?Does your spell book tell you so?  Well, don’t go that way: there’s a troll – you’re out of fire spells to slay that foeAnd Acid Arrow you don’t know!Well I know the situation’s grim –You saw the what the beast did to him.We both took off and flew…At least I can run faster that you!I was running fast, on through the muckThe gnome kept on saying that our chances suckedAnd I knew that we were out of luck the day the ranger died. I started singing…(Chorus)Now for ten hours, we were on our own,While the dragon grew fat on the ranger’s bonesLet’s hope that’s not our destinyWell, the cleric prayed to Cyrrollalee for a spell to heal the wounds on meand the gnome, who’d still a bloodied knee.Oh, but while the cleric’s head was bowed,Undead returned – those he’d once cowed.  The cleric rose and turned – this time none survived the burns!And while he began heal us in the , the gnome, he practiced casting sparks, I drank a option called “Skin of Bark,”  The day, the ranger died/(Chorus)Back in town, I met a bard, and I asked her for a happy yarn,But she smiled and turned away.So I went down to the sacred store, when I’d had him raised years before,But the man there had no body for to raise.Then in the streets, the people screamed.  The taverns burned; blood flowed in streams.  The dragon’d followed us back; it razed the town – every shack.Then the three men I admire most – the cleric, mage and myself  (I’m Kholst),Well we caught the last wagon towards the coast, the day, the ranger, died.And we were singing, Bye, bye, oh, it’s time to fly!We should go before we end up like that elvish guy.If we’re lucky and we hide well, it might pass us by,And this won’t be the day that we die…this won’t be the day that we die.</blockquote>

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