Once upon a time|a man of noble blood|set out to earn his name|flanked by his loyal host|all clad in chain-mail, glittering like gemstones|lances wrought in bunting, writhing in the wind|to win fame and honor was foremost on his mind||In the old forest|he thought he would find|a worthy challenge|monsters to defeat|but as the sun was waning, fear gripped his heart|his men began to shiver, begged to turn around|for within this cursed forest, ancient power slumbered||Standing all abandoned|a shout rings through the cold|"I smell a Russian smell! Out now, I will find you!"|He just stood there frozen, hope gone from his eyes|So in the dark she found him, Baba Yaga, merciless.