Three men trail my lead,
In seek of investment from a man of greed,
Into a hall of castle reverence,
Upon the boastful scrooge we portray benevolence.

A word of notable thanks he gives to us,
To previous quests before,
But to our new quest, not a dime to pass,
Only a gesture for the door.

A man of such riches to behold,
Gives us not one coinage of gold,
"THEN A KNIFE TO YOUR THROAT"
But from my brother of travel, a jaunting note.

"Repercussions will be found, at the pierce of that heart"
Known to myself, a danger of the threads of time,
"Come, brother in arms, we must part"
To the door I leave alive the gloating grime.

Into the halls we find ourselves short,
Disappointed our noble journey simply thwart,
But then a darkness spreads the halls,
And fades over us dead-ended fools.

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