Fetch the Uncanny ventures to the Moor of Sleep,

The third level down in the ancient dungeon deep.

Alone they are not, with them is Bairaz the Wild,

Plants grow by his feet, his mimic’s countenance mild.

The two find a battlefield in this eerie place,

Long has it been since the battle was in this space...

Bloodied regalia bears mostly one sigil.

Bairaz grows flowers in his own silent vigil.

Still, though Fetch seems unbothered, he can't help notice

The sigil is two Coursers, when he does focus,

Over pentacle, biting each other at neck.

Fetch eyes it knowingly, but they say not a speck.

Once he has grown enough of the graveyard flowers,

Its time to move on. All he has is his powers,

No further knowledge to lean on, not like his child.

He wonders what he would make of it, clearly styled;

It must mean something more than just a coat of arms.

But though mysterious, mystery rare does harms.

So move on the two do, across the moor of sleep,

An old dungeon is allowed its secrets this deep.