She forsakes the tomb her sisters take.
She has the chance to follow still.
And yet she cannot walk away.
The Wizard, Dying
He will not live to see the end.
He has power still, might to spare.
And yet he cannot save himself.
The Sword, Unsheathed
She solves it all with blood and steel.
She fights demons, orcs, and creatures unknown.
And yet her might is no match for the darkness.
The Wheel, Turning
He deals in chance, a difficult dance.
He hopes that he can buy off his final breath.
And yet he has a final fate.
The Dragon, Grieving
She knows the end will come too soon.
She longs for life, for love without strife.
And yet her wings have fallen still.
The Dwarf, Smiling
He happily ignores the sky.
He quests and fights and drinks.
And yet he knows it all is true.
The Seer, Blinded
She once saw light and futures bright.
She now sees nothing, not even shadows.
And yet she knows that there is a chance.
The Baron, Wearied
He has served his people for so long.
He is tired - so tired it's hard to stand.
And yet he cannot rest - not yet.
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