Lords & Ladies,

An Annual Celebration at the House of Blackwolf is the Feast of the Fallen Warriors. On this night we remember those Noble Warriors past, present and future. Upon this self same evening it was my Great Honour to bestow upon my Ladywife Dagrny the Office of Knighthood in recognition of her Noble and Valourous Deeds done this past year. So it is my grateful Duty to present unto you all Dame Dagrny Sutrwulf! Huzzah!

I am at your service,Sir Blackwolf

The Knight by Sir Blackwolf                                        Apr 25, 2003

The Knight stands on guard before the castle door,
with eyes hard as flint, he watches the windswept moor.
Within the keep warmth and laughter, they've naught to fear,
singing and dancing, mirth and merriment, the meat begins to sear.
Wind whips at his cloak, the rain pelts on his mail,
his callused hand rests on his sword, his duty he'll not fail.
A warrior's greatest fear is not the foe or pain or death,
it's that harm might befall those he holds dear, those he'll defend unto his last breath.
So the Knight keeps his vigil,  the revelers dance about the place,
The grim warrior smiles to himself, a tear rolls down his scarred face.
He'll stand there all night if he must, till sleep takes the last of his wards,
a warrior's life is hard and thankless but their happiness is his reward.
The Knight stands on guard before the castle door,
with eyes hard as flint, he watches the sun rise over the moor.