Lore:Death Blow of Abernanit

Broken battlements and wrecked walls 
Where worship of the Horror  nce embraced. 
The bites of fifty winters  rost and wind 
Have cracked and pitted the unholy gates, 
And brought down the cruel, obscene spire. 
All is dust, all is nothing more than dust. 
The blood has dried and screams have echoed out. 
Framed by hills in the wildest,   place 
Of Morrowind 
Sits the barren bones of  .  

When thrice-blessed    irst saw Abernanit, 
It burnished silver bright with power and permanence. 
A dreadful place with dreadful men to guard it 
With fever glassed eyes and strength through the Horror. 
Rangidil saw the foes' number was far greater 
Than the few  s and  s he led, 
Watching from the hills above, the field and castle of death 
While it stood, it damned the souls of the people 
Of Morrowind. 
Accursed, iniquitous castle Abernanit.  

The alarum was sounded calling the holy warriors to battle 
To answer   shield with justice's spear, 
To steel themselves to fight at the front and be brave. 
Rangidil too grasped his shield and his thin ebon spear 
And the clamor of battle began with a resounding crash 
To shake the clouds down from the sky. 
The shield wall was smashed and blood staunched 
The ground of the field, a battle like no other 
Of Morrowind 
To destroy the evil of Abernanit.  

The maniacal horde were skilled at arms, for certes, 
But the three holy fists of Mother, Lord, and Wizard  ushed 
The monster's army back in charge after charge. 
Rangidil saw from above, urging the army to defend, 
   imself in his pernicious tower spire, 
And knew that only when the heart of evil was caught 
Would the land e'er be truly saved. 
He pledge then by the Temple and the Holy   
Of Morrowind 
To take the tower of Abernanit.  

In a violent push, the tower base was pierced, 
But all efforts to fell the spire came to naught 
As if all the strength of the Horror held that one tower. 
The stairwell up was steep and so tight 
That two warriors could not ascend it side by side. 
So single-file the army clambered up and up 
To take the tower room and end the reign 
Of one of the   petty tyrants in the annals 
Of Morrowind, 
Dagoth Thras of Abernanit.  

They awaited a victory cry from the first to scale the tower 
But silence only returned, and then the blood, 
First only a rivulet and then a scarlet course 
Poured down the steep stairwell, with the cry from above, 
"Dagoth Thras is besting our army one by one!" 
Rangidil called his army back, every Ordinator and 
Buoyant Armiger, and he himself ascended the stairs, 
Passing the bloody remains of the best warriors 
Of Morrowind 
To the tower room of Abernanit.  

Like a raven of death on its aerie was Dagoth Thras 
Holding bloody shield and bloody blade at the tower room door. 
Every thrust of Rangidil's spear was blocked with ease; 
Every slash of Rangidil's blade was deflected away; 
Every blow of Rangidil's mace was met by the shield; 
Every quick arrow shot could find no purchase 
For the Monster's greatest power was in his dread blessing 
That no weapon from no warrior found in all 
Of Morrowind 
Could pass the shield of Abernanit.  

As hour passed hour, Rangidil came to understand 
How his greatest warriors met their end with Dagoth Thras. 
For he could exhaust them by blocking their attacks 
And then, thus weakened, they were simply cut down. 
The villain was patient and skilled with the shield 
And Rangidil felt even his own mighty arms growing numb 
While Dagoth Thras anticipated and blocked each cut 
And Rangidil feared that without the blessing of the Divine Three 
Of Morrowind 
He'd die in the tower of Abernanit.  

But he still poured down blows as he yelled, 
"Foe!  I am Rangidil, a prince of the True Temple, 
And I've fought in many a battle, and many a warrior 
Has tried to stop my blade and has failed. 
Very few can anticipate which blow I'm planning, 
And fewer, knowing that, know how to arrest the design, 
Or have   strength to   all of my strikes. 
There is no greater master of shield blocking in all 
Of Morrowind 
Than here in the castle Abernanit.  

My foe, dark lord Dagoth Thras, before you slay me, 
I beg you, tell me how you know how to block." 
Wickedly proud, Dagoth Thras heard Rangidil's plea, 
And decided that before he gutted the Temple champion, 
He would deign to give him some knowledge for the afterlife, 
How his instinct and reflexes worked, and as he started 
To explain, he realized that he did not how he did it, 
And watched, puzzled, as Rangidil delivered what the tales 
Of Morrowind 
Called "The death blow of Abernanit."