Battle of the Sixth Age

And the Sixth Age did rise the SåpeSønner
Scions of Såpe.
He saw that which had come before
And made the SåpeSønner to renew the world
Fair creatures
Prismatic Hair
Prismatic Irises
Prismatic Skin
All the colors
All the gifts they possessed
The magic of the Simsaur
The science of the Abysmal
The spirit of the Gods
The patience of the Middle Folk
And the might of Bleyok.
They built their cities
On music and crystal
Light and Air
Glorious and Honorable
They slowly began to rebuild the world
To Cleans it of that which had stained it
But the seeds of evil were deep
Planted, so long ago.
There was a great war
In which the SåpeSønner
Led the remaining races against the scions
of Bleyok
Ravenous they were
And mighty and hairy and disgusting
And smelly
They multiplied like rabbits
But each time the mighty SåpeSønner
threw them down.
For a thousand years
The seeds of Bleyok unleashed upon the earth
Stealing the gifts of the SåpeSønner
And turning them dire
But the SåpeSønner triumphed
And at last the world was cleansed of their evil.
And the SåpeSønner looked to the heavens
And went to the other worlds in mighty ships
That sailed the stars.
Leaving almost all of the SåpeSønner.
And time passed.
And they grew to be an idle race
Caught forever in the past
Demanding honorifics from the other races
That they had so gloriously saved
And at first it was given
But as the years passed, they chafed in annoyance
And the Simsaur, and the Abysmal and the Middle Folk
All retreated and hid from the SåpeSønner.
And the Gods howled on the Desert World
Imprisoned there where they could do no more harm.
And the SåpeSønner began to die off
One by one
Until there were only a few left
There was the occasional renewal
A brief flurry of glory and hope
But by the end of the sixth age
The world was ready for something new.