Cold sharp hail is blown into my face by a storming wind. 
I take shelter in a small wooden church near the black woods. 
A choir sings some songs of praise for their lord. 
For I while it makes me forget the sorrow 
I am in. '
In distress we call to thee, we await thy return, for the forces of evil are closing in upon us, but with thy help we can live beyond our lives' end, o 
Lord accept our gratitude for thy sacrifice.' 
I hear a call in the distance, it startles me. 
For it seems like the call of a dying man, 
I ascend my horse. 
As we leave our shelter to challenge te raging storm. 
I hear the shrieks of a falcon from within the fog ahead of us. 
Amazed to hear a falcon's shriek in this time of year. 
I ride towars the branch on which the falcon sits. 
I feel a cold shiver as 
I enter the forest in search of this man. 
With the falcon as my guide, and a bastard sword at my side. 
A strange feeling that makes me a bit sick tells me 
I am near. 
The source of the horrible scream, which 
I heard a short while ago. 
The slain body of a warrior is what 
I find here. 
It looks a bit familiar but 
I cannot seem to grasp it. 
Death takes even the best of us. 
Away from the world of the living. 
I wonder what the cause was. 
For the death of this man. '
Dost thou not see the war that plagues the land, our enemies gather before our beloved city?' 
His face carries a strange expression. 
He seems to have been content. 
I wonder if there's more to it. 
Is there a truth in the books of old?