---

When the dead of night strikes and the air has grown cold,
a man lines dormant, sedated into a slumber.
Shadows loom over him, taunting his resting body.
They dare him to awaken as they watch in menace.

He rises, yet his mind is at rest.
I am he who walks in his sleep, gripping a dagger by my side
to take down they who dare intrude.

Blood soils my hands of the many who have tried
to shake me out of this trance; none of them have survived.
When the dead of night strikes and the air has grown cold,
mothers warn their children to beware the Sleepwalker.

"Stay in bed, do not leave your room,
for he lurks the halls of every home
of every village in this land.
Beware the Sleepwalker."

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