The tree supports me, the sky above, all in the lazy haze of summer heat. To and fro the dandelions dance within the fields. Ever more I feel the drowsiness of sleep as it nips the comers of my mind while on my moss covered seat. My ears do hear a curious sound of swords, mail, and clattering shields. For on this ground there stood five armies, shouting and jeering for their claim. A king restored and a Dale lit new, brought the ruckus from the birds. And now pushed out, after hellfire and death, stood men speaking curses of shame. And from the top of his balcony, the king stared out, leaving them waiting with no words. When the battle grew tense then did the king commence to right his wrong and fight with them. And when I awoke it seemed queer to me the way things ended. To look upon this mountain and never find an entrance is what leads credence to this stories falsehood. But the lone mountain stands tall above the lake and trees to its south. And we wonder if it’s all brought to mind by the heat.