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The Necromancer's Folly is a romanticised account of the Legend of Arrav. Written by Rosaline Haines and then colleague Elnathan Solandri, the saga was often performed by the duo during their troupe's tours throughout the human kingdoms of RuneScape.

Lyrics

Long ago, in ages past,
a hero was born without caste.
This child of man, of Sun and Moon:
Arrav, our champion - and our doom...
"Curse of Goblins," it rang about
as Arrav did push the goblins out.
In their wake, a kingdom rose:
Avarrocka, his city - and his home.
And then one night, in the Land of Dreams,
Arrav met a foe, one who schemes.
"I know you," he did proclaim,
"and this city I shall set aflame."
Once told, the elders knew
this man, Arrav, would be their doom.
And so they sent him to fetch a shield,
one whose location remained concealed.
For seven days and seven nights,
Arrav did travel without plight.
In time he found dwarves who held
the shield he sought but they withheld.
"We cannot give it away to you,
for if we do, it will bring our doom."
They said he must go away from there;
the Necromancer had brought them despair.
A heavy heart Arrav did bear
as he sought the shield elsewhere.
But no one knew it or had said
whenever the Necromancer's name was read.
Arrav grew weary in his search,
and so outside a cave he perched.
He watched the sun and moon go by;
he watched the grass grow and die.
In the cave a beast did wake,
with fiery heart, it was a drake.
It sensed the man and grew near,
unaware its doom was here.
For two days and two nights,
Arrav fought until he took its sight.
And with his own did he see
the drake was what he might be.
"No more searching," he did state.
"I now return home, whatever my fate."
And so Arrav trekked the way he came,
so that he might relieve his shame.
Avarrocka was gone, the whole town,
the goblins had burned it down.
Gathering men, with vengeance at hand,
did Arrav so plan to make their stand.
Only when they made to move
did Arrav realise their doom:
man and goblin should not fight,
for no one wins from this blight.
Raising his voice, he called for peace,
and only then did the fighting cease.
Avarrocka was remade and the people cheered
for their hero, Arrav, whom they held dear.
Two years later, and only then,
did he meet the Necromancer again.
"I come now," he did say,
"and you shall be the first I slay."
Arrav knew then what to do.
He left his home beneath the moon.
To the dwarves he did go,
and there saw that they did know.
Only now, with their doom at hand,
did the dwarves deliver the shield unto him.
Arrav returned as fast as he could,
to end the threat of the Necromancer for good.
With shield in hand and sword drawn,
Arrav met his foe at the crack of dawn.
The Necromancer struck repeatedly
but Arrav fought on, not giving in easily.
But with each blow, he knew, he could not keep pace,
and so his fate did Arrav embrace.
Tossing the shield over the city's walls,
Arrav knew then he had won after all.
Light flared out, the city glowed,
and as it dimmed the enemy slowed.
The city was won, but at great cost:
their hero, Arrav, had finally lost.
The Necromancer withdrew, his anger great,
for his defeat he did create;
in his wake now he did see,
the hero, Arrav, and his legacy.
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