By Jessica Howe

In the faraway south of long time ago lived a young lizarror of whom many know.
He was tall as embrifil,  strong as the trees, had scales, his hair blew in the breeze.
Zorko feared no one, not sand, sea or sky; the sun shone on his armor and gleamed in his eye.
And he was.
The days were all different than in the world, all knew one another and travelers told
Tales of lands far to heavens, lands so far away that you couldn’t just walk there, not in a day.
Lands of other people, and other beings; those who saw them believed not what they’d seen.
Others were surprised.
Now, there was in this galaxy a race called Vul, short they were, stocky, and verily cruel;
They were blinded forever yet saw as none other, and they cursed the lands of Rubikia forever,
For they hated our culture, hated our name, and their ways and ours could ne’er be the same.
So we fought.
This was the Stupid Wars, fought with a gun, and sword & rough armor, forgot what we learned
From the sorcerers’ teachings that came from the Halls hid in the mountains, hidden from all.
We fought and we blasted, much blood was lost, many fury fires burned, we counted the cost
And we wept.
Zorko would not join them, disliked gory hate, fights ‘mongst the people had risen of late.
Blood was in puddles everywhere, staining the trees; the stanching of death lay on the breeze.
He spoke against it, found it no use; we should fight with our own method, use what we knew.
And some listened,
He gathered a small host together at last; off they went through the Folding with a giant blast.
They burst into the fighting, sorcerers all, all were with Zorko, who’d answered his Call.
And the true fight began.
Giant serpents, huge sunmen appeared in the dark; Vulians drew back, unsure of this work.
They were taunted by illusion, minds unsure, a deadlier weapon than that which they wore.
So it went.
He returned in triumph, his victory was told; the people all cheered, ringed his armor in gold.
He was proclaimed ruler of all the land; we took his words to heart, kept them in hand.
He wandered the world, searched for a home, but no home was given him, so he had none
And he left.
So Zorko went up and disappeared instead, folks went into mourning, thinking him dead.
He went through the Folding, where he did roam, and at last came to one nearer our home.
He landed on a satellite, then on our moon, where the silversands whirl, he watched till noon
And he saw it.
The palace stood tall on the barren plain, master of this world and would be again.
This was the place where he knew he’d be master. He came to the palace, his heart beat faster.
It was impenetrable, its halls very long; someone made this place and had then simply gone.
He settled in.
Slowly word drifted down of him, voice heard again. He spoke his laws, we heard his name.
We burned our weapons, dropped all our tolls, used magic for everything, nothing was sold.
We believed in his virtue, believed in his name; nothing on Rubikia would ever be the same
Zorko the Firstking was all long ago, but his name is remembered, his laws we all know.
He has many legends, his race is still strong, and we are sure to remember him long.
He was just a lizarror and he was right, he proved you could win a fight without might.