Terror's Roar

The smell of death, it lingers here.

But I stand firm, suppress my fear.

My companions silent, gazes clear,

In dark, oppressive atmosphere.

…

Torches flicker, cast their light,

Little sparks within the night.

Bow and sword are here to fight,

And staff to give us magic's might.

…

The dye is cast, and it is dire.

We're facing spawn of Hell's own fire.

But to rescue Albrecht, my desire,

So I go to triumph, or my pyre.

…

So we stride across the floor,

A group of three, with Light implored.

I shudder as I did before,

As my soul hears terror's loudest roar.

A/N

And insert "Lord of Ter-roar!" joke here.