I play a game, where people meet, and orcs run cross the land. Some would call me foolish, some would call me lucky. For I travel to places others meet cruel death While I find adventure and reward. Some would mock my habits, leaving behind traditions for the new works of gnomes and dwarves. some insult my choice to stay with the first creature of the woods I Trusted with my life, and his with mine. But know As a shadow in the wood my reach is long, my pet is swift, with thunder I bring a death you cannot outrun or escape. (love the night elves!) background darkend for effect.