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CHAPTER ONE : THE CURSE
VERMIN FATE
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The barbarian king decrees a tax on the land
The mage in his tower will not stand for this demand
He hates the hubris of this mere mortal man
He's got his potions and poisons and he's plotting out his plan
He summons demons, slaves to his bidding
To keep his own hands clean, proxies for his sinning
Demon waits in shadows ready to attack
The king unaware his throat left slashed
My country falls into a state of distrust
Any one of our neighbors could be a demon among us
The mage wants us in a fog of chaos
Weak and blind in the grief of our kings loss
The king and I were like brothers born on the battlefield
There is no number to the enemies we killed
Brothers born in blood we shed our share
A little more in revenge only seems fair
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