Herenicus is his name, a dragon of Mhaldor is he
A voice he has, of a charming baritone melody
Serving Lord Apollyon, faithful to all
Suffering A loyal man, and dragon, a womans own fantasy
Yet of the age of a hundred and eight, he seems so young
Yet in his eyes of paled blue, lies the look of a worn man
Such tasks and positions of power he holds,

Many a fair lady would love to have this gentleman
A bachelor, for no woman could take place of his duties
And a poet this man is, a master of the rhyming
Weaving tales from word of mouth, awing those who do listen
For a man of many talents is he, yes, yes, indeed
Both a fighter, one of words, a man of diplomacy
Ruling council of Mhaldor, the Viceroyies

For it is lain within this man, both human and dragon
Mysterious to be unraveled, as others stand in awe
Amazed by this creature truly spun by the threads of the Gods
Second to Father Wulfen, it is to be said, by many
Yet denied this humble man of evil shall always say
Service unto the darkness that is the strength of soul
Those who adore him, watch and wait, for what this man shall do.


Penned by my hand on the 25th of Valnuary, in the year 459 AF.