Cold sharp hail is blown into my face by a storming wind.
I take shelter in a small wooden church near the black woods.
A choir sings some songs of praise for their lord.
For I while it makes me forget the sorrow I am in.

'In distress we call to thee, we await thy return,
For the forces of evil are closing in upon us,
But with thy help we can live beyond our lives' end,
O Lord accept our gratitude for thy sacrifice. '

I hear a call in the distance, it startles me.
For it seems like the call of a dying man, I ascend my horse.
As we leave our shelter to challenge te raging storm.
I hear the shrieks of a falcon from within the fog ahead of us.
Amazed to hear a falcon's shriek in this time of year.
I ride towars the branch on which the falcon sits.
I feel a cold shiver as I enter the forest in search of this man.
With the falcon as my guide, and a bastard sword at my side.
A strange feeling that makes me a bit sick tells me I am near.
The source of the horrible scream, which I heard a short while ago.
The slain body of a warrior is what I find here.
It looks a bit familiar but I cannot seem to grasp it.
Death takes even the best of us.
Away from the world of the living.
I wonder what the cause was.
For the death of this man.
'Dost thou not see the war that plagues the land,
Our enemies gather before our beloved city? '
His face carries a strange expression.
He seems to have been content.
I wonder if there's more to it.
Is there a truth in the books of old?