As darkness sets on the town of Terra, merrymaking can be heard from the famous Tavern of Terra He stood. This knight of the realm honoured and decorated by King Gunthrow himself. Donned in his fine armours and exquisite weaponry. The fires did but enhance the darkened features of his battle worn face. The pendant around his neck, glowing. Ardante spoke: "Thus set the final sun on syndar...The day was gone and darkness descended upon us..." From across the way stood yet another knight. Though unrecognised by the number, he too was equipped in fine battle garb and around his neck also, sat a glowing pendant. Aenarion stated: "And in the presence of night shone a single star upon the horizon... a jewel of night... one among many, outshining them all..." Ardante continued the statement a hint of sadness mixing with his proud tones: "And lo I shall stand until the time of stone at the gates of Elmarae, guarding against all evils until time claims me.." Aenarion moved outwards from his dark corner, a pained expression on his face: "And when Time mounts his steeds with his companions of the apocalypse... there shall I be standing, under the star of which I was born...thus shall I pray and henceforth be taken from this world by Death before War has his way..." Ardante stood proud: "Let time come, let apocalypse send forth its steeds, I care not I shall meet there eerie cries with steel and bitter compassion" Aenarion looked upwards, his yellow eyes appearing to see through the murky roof of the Tavern. "And I shall watch from my nirvana, safe from the physical pain of this world... and I shall call to thee" Ardante, moved forth across the Tavern cutting a sway in the now silent and enthralled crowd. "And they shall cry out 'The brothers of Targos have risen!' and together we shall ride steeds of fire through the mist unto the battle. Blades of fire clashing and shields of flame to guard our souls...They would pay dearly for which they claimd..." Aenarion placed his arm upon Andante's shoulder. "And as the messengers of the Tower cry out in despair, the brothers shall break the gates and burn the bridge..." Ardante did but nod. "There fires scald all others that walk but not us...Unscathed by fire nor by arrow we shall march unto their gates and sunder it before them..." Aenarion, moved swiftly across the room in a rage his arms raised above him as the glow from the fire seemed to burn in his eyes. "And the women shall weep...with the siblings of there race in there arms...weeping as their kin are slaughtered merclessly for there crimes...what god will aid them? What deity will have mercy and save there grace?" Ardante smiled, "And in our own we shall raise our blades above us and call out in the name of Targos, Grace in his name, the woman will weep in rejoicement..." Aenarion turned his back to the fire so only his silhouette could be seen. "And...The voice of the Lord of Fire will be heard in the crackling of the fires...his grace mirrored in the Brothers of his glory..." Ardante joined him becoming nothing but a shadow unto the likeness of his brother. "Triumphant we will stand together, Brothers of arms, Brothers of fire...Brothers..." The fire arose suddenly to the startled cries of the crowd and then all was still.