Sing with me of woe and loss.
Of ideals twisted and fates tossed
Where tempests swirl in inky wind.
Of lessons learned and secrets hid.

I had a father, as most men do.
A warrior of great renown it's true.
His courage and valour, my mother swore,
Was in his name: the mighty Fynboar.

My father kept a secret close to his mind
A trade with fate kept his end aligned.
For soldiers he could fight easily and with skill
But by magic he knew he would always be killed.

Do not fear the end, dear child
When the great hunt ends with a call from the wild
For then great Nimeria your soul will collect
You travel into the sweet darkness she protects.

To me, he was like the hearth fire
Warm, tall, and dangerous that pyre.
To all the world he was a shade
Whose enemies ran from his blade.

Till one sorry day one wouldn't run,
Though father's rivals numbered none.
A cloaked figure arrived in smoke
And the fear within my father it broke.

A wizard he said with magics so great.
They could rival my father's renowned trait.
What could Fynboar do 'gainst powerful magic
But fight, even toward an ending most tragic?

The wizard's spells through the air flew
And Fynboar to Nimeria he threw.
The wizard wanted naught with us but to gloat
As his magics quickly slit my father's throat.

I watched as his lifeless husk grew cold
And inside me a plan took hold.
The spirit queen took him
But through the inky waters I'd swim.

As is our custom, I carved from a tree
A death symbol for my father and kept it by me.
In my times of doubt I'd give it a glance
A reminder that nothing in life is left to chance.

The prayers took years to master
But obscure magics made it all the faster
Til Hermaeus Mora answered my call
And showed himself in an inky squall.

I told him of my father's unfortunate fate
And argued 'til the night grew late.
With all the stars alight in the sky
I finally let the Prince hear my cry.

Oh please, Hermaeus Mora in all your tomes
Is there no knowledge to right my woes.
My father is dead, I have his talisman.
Show me how to reclaim him, and I'll teach you what I can.

Hermeaus Mora seemed interested by my trade.
The talisman was new to him, and in that regard, he is easily swayed.
He gave me a book of magics so dark.
Their use alone would leave me marked.

Be careful little mortal, of what you do not know.
You asked for something to make your knowledge grow.
Use it how you will. But read the book through,
For you never know what the magic will do.

His warning rang loud, but was quickly forgot.
As I perused necromantic knowledge the pages brought.
Here were the spells to resurrect the dead,
And I surrendered myself to wherever they led.

What happened next, I will not tell
For the memory of what I did I will forever quell.
I was successful, though my father lacked compassion
Our reunion was not at all how I imagined.

Dear child, he cried, you tore me from the embrace of Death
Restarted my life long after my final breath.
A warrior's death, an ending well earned
Or do you see honor as something to be burned?

Do you not respect me or the battles I fought.
See what you've done, child, look at what you bought.
You denied Lorkh's Dark Heart and me my rest
All for your selfishness and what you thought best.

I cannot abide you, I spit in your grave
For all you've done, what have you saved?
A corpse torn from the battle at the end of days.
Yes, child, you've truly learned my ways.

I'll leave you now so you'll never know
If I've suffered another death-blow
Or if I continue on in this half-lived state
No, dear child, this is your fate.

And then he left where I could not follow.
I looked for tracks and in mountain hollows.
But he was gone in the blizzards and in the snows
My father, Fynboar, alive? I'll never know.