The Knight

't Was in the soft light of a misty morning that sir Mordimarty the Destroyer of Worlds, took a sip of 'is well earned jasmin tea. Glad and reluctant he was about the performances that night. Not man' would've withstood the 'nhuman challenges that he went through, for only his power and unbeknownst bravery...

Though through the mist forthbrought shortsight of glory shone a cold loss from the heavens, deep into the one muscle Mordimarty tried so rigorously to hide. The loss of 'is dear friend sir Brothbane o' Bellowriver, whose relation to Mordimarty 'ad always far succeeded that of a mere fellow. 't Was as though the heavens'd felt the losses' cold. For they shone color galore through morning mists to sooth earths 'ts mourn...