The mighty Elven King lifted his blade
and smote the Evil one last, fatal blow.
The blood roared like a fountain as it sprayed
and rained upon the meadow far below.
Shocked and dismayed by their leader's defeat,
the Goblins fled the field, a jumbled mass
of malformed limbs and armor in retreat.
The Elves rejoiced how it had come to pass
the way the runes foretold. Meanwhile, not far
away, a rabbit crept out of his hole
and stepped in something viscous, black, like tar,
that shot up through his veins, and soon his soul.
And that's how Elvenkind was doomed to fall,
and now the Bunny Lord rules over all.
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