The Order of the Hammer
From which they taketh the gear,
And from which he taketh the gold.
For he will step silently among you,
Though troublesome, not nearly as deadly as the one who taketh the gear,
Who taketh the order, who taketh the builder
And cover him over.
My order, the old order, nothing new.
Forged in the furnace of the Builder himself,
We were a beacon—we built the beacon!
A beacon of hope to the unbelievers,
To those who chose not to understand the Builder and his way.
Worse, though, the pagans,
let them stay away.
And worse yet undead! Defiled undead,
Their corpses do rise again, unless they be burned
Burned in the furnace of the Builder.
But none of these have threated the order so,
None, pagan, the dead, not the Thief Garrett, oh no,
As much as the man dressed in green,
Them, the new order,
Their a masks of pure bronze,
The man who lead our poor builders
This is a dumb little poem heavily inspired by old Thief games.
I may rewrite this later, and turn it into a less dumb poem inspired by Thief.