The bells rung on a rainy day, the owner long deceased.
The bells rung on a sunny day, a new owner has come.
The bells rang on his wedding day, for it would be red as blood.
The bells rung on his deathbed, awaiting a new owner.
The bells rung on her birthday, a gift within the pile.
The bells rang as war was declared and it would have its share.
The bells rang as a drought was in the works.
The bells rang and death was in the air.
The bells grew as the wars grew in size.
The bells were silenced by an old historian who knew what they did.
The bells chimed back in a great cacophony, Death would claim it's prize.
The bells grew quiet as the historian hid from Death.
The bells grew louder and Death would take what it wanted.
The bells rang and the city was under siege.
The bells tolled and the Holy Grail was obscured.
The bells jingled a plague would take the world.
The bells silenced as wise men fought back.
The bells resurfaced, thought to have been lost at sea.
The bells ignited with an infernal ringing.