The Legend Of The Dwarf Prince

Rebecca bluewood

On a windy night, the moon shined like a pearl in the clear black sky. Hearing the bells of death, the dwarfs fled from their home town. With trees like torches, it looked like the flames spreading. The dragons ire, more fierce than fire, below it's feet laid blood of water. In places deep, where dark things sleep, the wind was moaning in the night. Horns were yelling and men looked up with faces of fright. To dungeons deep where cravens are old, while hammers fell like ringing bells. With anger filling the Dwarf Prince, each pound he hit against his sword would make sparks fly out like the day, everything fell into ruins by the dragon of the north.