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He made pilgrimage to these cursed lands

With sword and painted shield in hand

A personal sun he seeks to claim;

The radiance of a heliacal father’s flame.

He would commend his soul to the fire

To perpetuate the age of sunlight

From the cinders of the Kiln, he stokes the pyre

Immolation is the dream of this knight.

He is friend to the wayward phantoms

His sigil of gold, a brilliant bastion

Seeking out the fading lord

Smouldering in a forsaken, ashen core

And so it was that he ventured into the fiery ruins borne of the witch's folly

Afflicted by the curse of hollowing thought.

The blazing depths did teem with demonic foes owing genesis to the false flame

Beneath the helm, humanity continually rots.

The sun-sworn knight pierces through the inferno, impelled by the promise of everlasting radiance

Treading ancient scoria beneath thy feet.

His glare illuminates the forgotten halls; no shadow subsists in the warrior's wake.

Beware the subterranean solar deceit!

Magnificence or madness awaits this knight

The fire linked, or the darkness down below

He fights to preserve the bleary ember’s light

To repel the Abyss unleashed so long ago

A sacrifice unto the primal fire!