As grey traces of dawn tinge the eastern sky, the three travelers, men of
Willow Dale, emerge from the forest shadow. Fording the River Dawn, they turn
South, journeying into the dark and forbidding lands of the Necromancer.
Even now the intensity of his dread power can be felt, weakening the body and
Saddening the heart. Ultimately they will become empty, mindless spectres,
Stripped of will and soul. Only their thirst for freedom gives them hunger for
Silence shrouds the forest
As the birds announce the dawn.
Three trav'llers ford the river
And southward journey on.
The road is lined with peril,
And the air is charged with fear.
The shadow of his nearness
Weighs like iron tears.
II. Under the Shadow
Shreds of black cloud loom in overcast skies;
The Necromancer keeps watch with his magic prism eyes.
He views all his lands and is already aware
Of the three helpless invaders
Trapped in his lair...
Broading in the tower,
Watching o'er his land,
Holding ev'ry creature,
Helplessly they stand.
Gaze into his prisms,
Knowing they are near.
Lead them to the dungeons.
Spectres numb with fear,
They bow defeated.
III. Return of the Prince
Enter the Champion.
Prince By-Tor appears to battle for freedom from chains of long years.
The spell has been broken...the Dark Lands are bright, the Wraith of the
Necromancer soars away...in the night.
By-Tor slays his foe.
The men are free to run now
From labyrinths below.
Wraith of the Necromancer
Shadows through the sky;
Another land to darken
With evil prism eye.