“Out of the shadows, with both blades held high,
The Blackwolds did shudder when they heard the cry,
The scream that avenges all that have been wronged,
As the cloaked avenger savaged the throng,
He first came from Gondor – Pashkuil his name,
Of him not much is known but he is feared all the same,
His face largely covered and obscured by the night,
Spreading fear through the Blackwolds who yearn for the light
Out of the shadows with both blades held high,
To those that do evil the end may be nigh,
A thrust of the sword and a taste of the dagger,
Was the end of Applewood, of Woodright and Jagger
Out of the shadows with both blades held high,
Making a tomb for the Blackwolds to lie”
Marc W Eyre (Pashrandir)
The Blackwolds did shudder when they heard the cry,
The scream that avenges all that have been wronged,
As the cloaked avenger savaged the throng,
He first came from Gondor – Pashkuil his name,
Of him not much is known but he is feared all the same,
His face largely covered and obscured by the night,
Spreading fear through the Blackwolds who yearn for the light
Out of the shadows with both blades held high,
To those that do evil the end may be nigh,
A thrust of the sword and a taste of the dagger,
Was the end of Applewood, of Woodright and Jagger
Out of the shadows with both blades held high,
Making a tomb for the Blackwolds to lie”
Marc W Eyre (Pashrandir)