Opening Verse

On cold misten hills, beast witsome and fell
In holdings and havens the vassals adwell
Seers know the all, the start and the end
Myths hushed aloud to which truth must abend
Aside vagabonds on snakelene trails
Knights render these stories awrenched from their veils
For the oath, for the glory, through sorrow and ache
The City, that quest to which no knight can make
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