Albert the Great

A crash of thunder on the ancient ebony gate
splits the silence like an axe blow
Storming his silence and breaking his peace
with no thought of consequence

And with that the mighty wizard aroze
and began his decent apon his foes

He takes up his staff
and his norse blood flows strong
He arises from his throne
to smite his enemies tenfold

A legion of darkness marches forth
smearing the land with blood

For he has denied allegiance
with the forces of evil

With his fortress breached
he is left with no alternative
He rises his staff and calls upon Thor!

The skies open, death rains down
upon the helpless ones
He stands idle as his
enemies fall before him

Their quest was in vain
They assumed that his power had diminished