Through the ruins of Zoron, where the old stones weep, Gildon wandered alone, with shadows at his feet. The wind howled like ghosts from a forgotten war, Desperation drove him to the dragon's door. In the cave's endless night, where no light dares to creep, He knelt before Ankalog, the beast in slumber deep. With a shadowy mistress veiled in midnight's guise, He begged for their fury against the orcish tide. In the shadow of the hill, I sold my soul for flame, Now the orcs may burn, but Haldoria's the same. The dragon's fiery gaze pierced the veil of black, Promising half a kingdom, no turning back. Echoes of mandolin whispered through the stone, As he sealed the pact, forever alone. But betrayal's bitter sting lingers in the air, The cost to his people, a weight too great to bear. Fields once green now scarred by the dragon's breath, Regret in every step, courting only death. In the shadow of the hill, I sold my soul for flame, Now the orcs may burn, but Haldoria's the same. Whispers 'round the fire fade into the night, Gildon's tale a warning, lost in endless fight. The ruins hold their secrets, the dragon claims his due, In the heart of Zoron, the legend starts anew.
