In desperate times when legends die,
New legends then were given birth,
And marked their path in the stars of the sky.
And seven came in the misty night to cast their fates to the wind.
First among them a Cleric find,
Of a goddess of illusion and shade,
Of stoutest heart and changing mind,
To lead them on their way.
And next a Druid with copper hair,
As innocent as a child,
Her home and safety to foreswear,
And a heart once never defiled.
And seven came in the misty night to cast their fates to the wind.
With painted smile and wordless book
A sorcerer, doomed to die
Without an heir, but bouyant look
Keeps him from plaintive sigh.
From far to the frozen north, an Elf,
More hollow than left alive,
Assassin, then thief, now changed herself
To fight at the companions' side.
And seven came in the misty night to cast their fates to the wind.
With skillful voice and charming air,
A bard with a mischevious streak,
To lift their spirits from despair,
And occasional havoc to wreak!
Separated from northern clans,
A barbarian's heart of gold
Baffled by the southern man.
Her loyalty's bounds untold.
And seven came in the misty night to cast their fates to the wind.
And last was Jack, to lead them all,
To teach them and to learn,
To lift the fallen, and sometimes fall,
Glory not to win, but to earn.
And seven came in the misty night to cast their fates to the wind.