Eras ago I met a paladin, gallant and gentle.

He toiled at the anvil, for hours at a time,

while I sat and admired, lusted, and pined.

He showed me his love when he took both my hands,

and upon them he pressed a pair of finely made blades.

He knew I was strong, and made me a knight.

I fought by his side, until time took its toll.

His body grew ill, so I carried him off.

He sleeps now but still, I meet him in dreams.

My blacksmith, my love, he holds my heart still.

Penned by my hand on the 1st of Ero, in the year 755 AF.