WINDRIDER UNCHAINED
Windrider, fettered, imprisoned, and pinioned Wing-clipped by magic, his power full drained, Valdemar's Heir is defeated and captive, With his Companion by Darklord enchained.
Darklord of shadows his fetters is weaving Binds him in darkness as deep as despair, Mocks at his anger and laughs at his weeping, “Where is your strength now, oh Valdemar's Heir?”
Darklord has left them by shadows encumbered, Darshay and Windrider trapped in his gloom, Deep in 'his prisons, past hope, past believing, Heir and Companion, will this be your tomb?
Out of the shadows another draws nearer, Out of the twilight steals one furtive light. Shadows dance pain, while the Light sings despairing, Drawn here by Darshay and Windrider's plight.
Power new-won have the Singer and Dancer, Power to shatter their curses at last-Power that also could free the sad captives; Power to break the bonds holding them fast.
Heart speaks to heart in the depths of the darkness Grief calls to grief, and they falter, afraid- Why should they sacrifice all for these strangers? Then new-won compassion sends them on to aid.
Dancer in Shadows, she weeps as she dances, Dancing, unmaking the shadow-born bands. Sunsinger now through tears gives up his power- Sings back the magic to Windrider's hands.
Spent now, the twain unseen fall into shadow Gifted to strangers all that they had gained. Darklord returns, and by fear is confounded- Flees the avenger, Windrider unchained!
DEMONSBANE
Along a road in Hardorn, the place called Stony Tor A fearful band of farmers flees Karsite Border war. A frightened band of farmers, their children, and their wives, Seeks refuge from a tyrant, who wants more than their lives.
Now up rides Herald Vanyel. “Why then such haste?” says
he.
“Now who is it pursuing, whose anger do you flee? For you are all of Hardorn, why seek you Valdemar? Is Festil no protection? Bide all his men too far?”
“Oh, Vanyel, Herald Vanyel, we flee now for our lives, Lord Nedran would enslave us, our children and our wives- He'd give our souls to demons, our bodies to his men. King Festil has not heeded, or our peril does not ken.”
Now up speaks Herald Vanyel. “The Border is not far- But you are all of Hardorn, and not of Valdemar. You are not Randale's people-can call not on his throne- But damned if I will see you left helpless on your own!”
So forth goes Herald Vanyel, and onward does he ride.
On Stony Tor he waits then, Yfandes at his side.
With Nedran's men approaching, he calls out from on
high, “You shall not pass, Lord Nedran! I shall not let you by!”
Now Herald Vanyel only stands blocking Nedran's way “Now who are you, fool nothing, that you dare to tell me
nay?”
Now up speaks Herald Vanyel in a voice like brittle glass; “The Herald-Mage called Vanyel-and I say you shall not
pass!”
Now there stands great Lord Nedran, and behind him forty
