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Bonjour,
Voici un Irish legend :
A long time ago, a young dwarf by the name of Grayhood was a young paladin. Who had his fathers old legendary sword, The Ashbringer. Our hero Grayhood was a loner. He had no wife, no children and no future. He lived in the north of ireland with very little people. He knew the local farmers and butchers. But one day, A black dragon arrived. The legend said that this dragon was born and errupted from a volcano. Who had such strong scales that no sword to surpase it's durability, Grayhood. Heard the story of this dragon and said to himself, "The local heros of Ireland will take care- eh". But no one did. Grayhood, said yet again, "If no-one can stop this madness- eh, I'll take care of me self lad". And so he did. He took his fathers old armor and still shinning sword. And took head-to-head the dragon. The dragon's name... The people started calling him Deathwing, our hero just wouldn't care about his name and started swinging like a madman with his powerful sword, One blow he said. Just one... And so he hit him. And with slow little hit. The dragon screams with terror as he is turning into ash and now our hero knows. That this sword... Could be his future. After he fell from the dragons neck he was welcomed and thanked by everyone in Ireland, He was Irelands hero... Grayhood of the Argent Crusade.
J'espère que ce sera bon.
