The Path is lost, the Way is shut, our Dreams are still our own. Through time unmapped, through void untouched, we call this place our own. We guard the Path, we bar the Way, our Dreams always the same. Though time shall pass, though void shall churn, this place must serve as home.
The blood of Dragons, born from stone, innate magic surpasses all. Disciple of swords, student of the arcane, a harmonious blend guards them. A thing of change, no night the same, their blades always strike true. Bringer of faith, a bearer of light that keeps the Nightmare at bay. A dreamer lost, who once lead the way, now dreams of the arcane.
The pictures move, the scroll unfurls, the players set the scene. The broken moon made whole again, the Nightmare has its way. Through time untold, through void unseen, the web again made whole. The Path be found, the Way made open, our Dreams are lost to us.