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'As grey traces of dawn tinge the eastern sky,
the three travelers, men of Willowdale,
emerge from the forest shadow.
Fording the River Dawn, they turn south, journeying
into the dark and forbidding lands of the Necromancer
Even now the intensity of his dread power can be felt,
weakening the body and saddening the heart
Ultimately they will become empty, mindless spectres...
stripped of will and soul, only
their thirst for freedom gives them hunger for vengeance...'
Silence shrouds the forest
As the birds announce the dawn
Three trav'llers ford the river
And southward journey on
The road is lined with peril
The air is charged with fear
The shadow of his nearness
Weighs like iron tears
[II. Under the Shadow]
'Shreds of black cloud loom in overcast skies.
The Necromancer keeps watch with his magic prism eyes.
He views all his lands and is already aware of the three helpless invaders
trapped in his lair...'
Brooding in the tower
Watching o'er his land
Holding ev'ry creature
Helplessly they stand
Gaze into his prisms
Knowing they are near
Lead them to the dungeons
Spectres numb with fear
They bow defeated
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