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Found 13 results

  1. The Book of Valdev Collected rhymes and poems Inspired by true events within the city of Valdev Written by Grisell Balfour Three sisters Three nuns did enter the clinic one day Tis odd, I thought, in the very way They blocked the door so none could leave And cared so little when I did heave. Nothing could stop them from their mission Which they would say, was god-commissioned To collect some money for the poor And give their convent a brand new floor. That I might leave within their grace I left a donation on their plate So know the cost of spiritual salvation: A mere ten minas, to avoid damnation. A note on mushrooms When out foraging in woods, take heed Of flat brown mushrooms o’ rotten seed These false friends of those in need Will make nose run, and bottom bleed Mountain lament Up through winding valley and road We climb, seeking noble mountain abode Of warmed hearth and merrious home. The foul winds claw, they bring us close To our ancestors, and as they blow They whisper ill tidings of treacherous hosts. Past cavern maw, past ice-bound bones We tread, ignoring the pleading tone From the sunken gully that stirreth dread. Then through the mist, two torches blaze A threshold, to rooms of wine and bread Full o’ dancing folk in a festive haze. Yet as the fires and songs wear on, I step away, into night ‘fore dawn To listen again to the cooling airs. They speak of heath and hills I know The vales of green, the wilds I roamed And the embers inside doth lose their glow. The rhyme of Toby Spouth Toby Spouth did run his mouth And spoke of nobles with laughter For these small slights he lost his rights And couldn’t stop smiling thereafter Toby said he’d fight till dead A duel he did propose He tripped instead, fell on his head And landed on top of his nose Toby stood up, and cursed his luck Expecting to be excused But someone rushed in, and making a din Of wizardry he was accused So now we all go back to court To watch poor Toby’s new trial Maybe this time, he’ll toe the line And save us the pain of denial. Children of Valdev Round, round, round they go, Heading where? I do not know Through the town and square they flow Starring role of everyone’s show Loud, loud, loud are they For what purpose? I could not say Covered in mud, and seeds, and hay To them the world’s their personal play Quiet, quiet, quiet please There’s been enough frivolity I need fine wine and strongest cheese That I may write my books in peace. Ballade of lost beginnings From a womb of cloud and stone I fell upon the earth Swallowed by sea I settled ‘mong bones And sank to Metztli's mirth "Now my soul will be weighed and worthed" I sobbed, wailed and cried But the mercy of death cannot be gi'en To those who cannot die. I gazed upon my birthplace there Suspended in skies above Then felt a presence coming near That promised not warmth, nor care, nor love. “Thou art lost”, the daemon said, “Doomed ‘fore your mortal life. For the mercy of death cannot be gi’en To those who cannot die.” I know that men have often sought To cheat the laws of death But what’s a life of endless thought Within such darkened depths? With bloodied hand, the daemon offer’d A return to fairer skies Where the mercy of death could again be gi’en To one who could not die. So judge me not for every breath I take with hollowed chest, For I paid the highest price of all To walk with mortal flesh.
  2. A Land I Knew Too Little By Bo Blackwell A land I knew too little A vast and diverse crowd I sat at home and whittled Instead of living proud Twas not until I was a man That I began to stray Far from home, did I now stand Excited, scared, and away Savoy, a city growing Robust and full of life E’ryone forced to get along Because of far-spread strife I run away now, soaked in rain From a home that I’ll ne’er again dwell If I’d never left home, I wouldn’t feel this pain For a land I knew far too well [!] Tears stain the bottom of this parchment
  3. Never Relent Within this world, there are often things that are so devastating that it makes us wish to give up. But we must keep going, we must push through. We are the men of this world, and the sins of this world shall not keep us down. There is nothing that will hold us back from being who we want to be. Therefore, something must be written to show, just as you should never give up on the world, I shall never give up on you. We're no strangers to love You know the rules and so do I A full commitment's what I'm thinking of You wouldn't get this from any other guy I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching, but You're too shy to say it Inside, we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it And if you ask me how I'm feeling Don't tell me you're too blind to see Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you (Ooh, give you up) (Ooh, give you up) Never gonna give, never gonna give (Give you up) Never gonna give, never gonna give (Give you up) We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching, but You're too shy to say it Inside, we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you HIS LORDSHIP, Richard Paul Astley, Duke of Dichord, Count of Cadence, Viscount of Vibes, Baron of Bars, Lord of the Memelands, and Protector of the Rick Roll.
  4. Introduction: This documents aims to create an Anthology of poetry written by and created by various Forest Dwarves. However this does not mean however that works by other dwarves, or even other races will be entirely excluded. The goal of this project is to immortalize the unique culture of the Forest Dwedmar, so that future generations of dwarves can learn of their traditions, beliefs and way of life. The Poetry Collections of a Forest Dwarf is assembled by Garedyn The Mossy. ❃ Poems: 1. The Firefly Queen: -By an unknown Forest Dwarf (Written by VerminHunter) Oh, my Firefly Queen, Your subjects gather at night, They flicker, wishing to be seen, awestruck by your beauty and light. Oh, my Firefly Queen, Your shine never wanes, and sun makes the dark green. The night cannot bind with its chains. Oh, my Firefly Queen, It is now early and bright, I dearly miss your glean, But I know you will return tonight. ❃ 2. Elegy for our Kin: -By an Elder of The Mossborn Clan (Written by VerminHunter) Risen from soil, Suckled on dew, The ground you toiled, Your spirit, it flew. Wrinkles of rings, Spirit like a spring. You are not alone, though we remain, The King on his throne, wants you to join him in reign. When the orchids will bloom, Ye armoured entombed, Our love won’t be torn, When you are reborn. ❃ 3. Sunflower: -By Sir Borris Kortrevich (Written by tcs_tonsils_ (mc)) As golden the afternoon sun, you outstretched Yourself high into the air. Tall and beautiful, you Tower above everything and everyone. Green leaves topped with a yellow brimmed hat. ❃ 4. A Forest Poem: -By Nivndil Duskhollow (Written by unknown) Puerith’leyu. The trees they stand, A clamour of souls. Their voices born on Winds, are old. Boughs up high, Fairy halls. Roots below, Silent foot-falls. They stand and wait, For times unborn. To whisper secrets, Before words were forged. Amongst their trunks, Beneath canopy dome. To Bate in twilight, The trees my home. ❃ 5. Gold of Woods: -By Garedyn The Mossy (Written by Vermin Hunter) Hand made by countless hands. Over plains, lakes and lands. None compare to its splendour Every wants you from ages yore, Yellow, rich, golden and delicious. ❃ 6. Mushroom: -By Garedyn The Mossy (Written by Vermin Hunter) There was once a shroom on a tree, With a red cap for all to see, A dwarf took a bite. He then caught a fright, He fell, clutching his heart, to his knees. ❃ 7. Wooden Bastion: -By an admirer of trees (Written by Vermin Hunter) Your hide is amazing and so tough Rings of age showing your wisdom Standing tall, never falling Enduring all with pride Leader of the wood Strong and mighty Stoic Grove A brave Oak ❃ 8. In The Sky: -By an unknown Forest Dwarf (Written by Vermin Hunter) Night swallows fly by, So late at night in the sky, Speeding with the wind, Agile and graceful, They are boundless, like comets Unfettered, unchained. To be one of them, One has to let go of all The price of freedom ❃ 9. Omen: -By an unknown Forest Dwarf (Written by Vermin Hunter) The silence of leaves The stillness of trees We must appease the raven The lack of game No wild to tame We must appease the boar The dryness of air, No water in the lair We must appease the pike The crackling roar The burning floor We must run from our home. ❃ 10. Bloom: -By a Garedyn The Mossy (Written by Vermin Hunter) Petals The fields shift hue Their scent is lifted up How wonder full, fields of beauty Blossoms.
  5. The Dawning of a New Day 5th of Vyzmey ag Hyff, 427 E.S. [!] Depiction of the coronation of His Royal Majesty, Koeng Karl III and his consort, Her Royal Majesty, Koenas Amadea of Susa. No sun hath been known to stay in the sky forever. No man hath been known to see an eternity pass. No wee babe hath ever been known to stay tiny. No king hath been known to rule till the end of time. So death comes to those who stray near the end of the thread. And it came to the one who we had so admired. An endless circling loop, an endless looping cycle. Yet no sun hath ever been known to stay hidden forever. As it peaks over the horizon there is beauty. Thou art the man to take up thine father’s throne. A responsibility so vast, and a burden so great. Thou art to be called majesty, the hope to those who have little. Thou art to be called protector, the shield to the defenseless Thou art to be called king, the light to the entire nation. So take up thy throne of glory and honor, For the morning hath come and darkness shall not prevail. In the name of Godan above, shall take thine oath, And fulfill the duties that weigh on thy shoulders. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich, KML, Battle-Bard of the BSK and Court Poet
  6. My Child 5th of Tov ag Yermey, 426 E.S. Oh how tiny your hands and feet are. How pale are those fatty cheeks of yours. Oh how light the color of your hair How soft and plush your legs feel. Oh how you latch onto my finger, How tender your grasp is. Oh how you squirm around in my arms, How your arms flail when you are uncomfortable. Oh how those eyes watch the world with wonder And how your loud cries break my heart. Oh how you crave our attention, how could I not give you such. And how soft and genuine your laughs are. Oh how you are the light of my life, How you bring so much joy to me. Oh how you will be forever mine. How I wouldn’t do anything for you. Oh how much you look like your parents, How well mirrored our features are on you. Oh how could anyone not love a person such as you. How precious is my little one. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich KML
  7. “Union of House Carrion” [!] A depiction of the betrothed pair shortly after Amadea’s return 7th of Vyzmey ag Hyff, 424 E.S Behold, a long awaited union. Behold the ones who will be seated upon the throne in time. Their marriage shall signify the glorious continuation of a prosperous nation. A sign to all those who may see it, that we shall thrive, just as they shall thrive. Behold our next king. Woe to those who do not know the might of House Barbanov, Their leadership has kept Haeseni-Ruska together. Their lineage has been the one which we all strive to protect. Behold our next queen. Unfortunate is the one who does not know the history of House Basrid, For it is by their own hard work that they have gained their position and title. Their lineage have served many a king and empire, and served in their own right.. Behold, the long awaited return, Two descendants of kings and queens long past, from the same lines they have Come, and to the same line they shall now return. Two beans, Born of the same plant, yet of different stems. They now are intertwined. Behold, a long awaited reunion, The separation of a house Carrion now finds refuge together. Royal lines have split, yet their diligence and work is not to be forgotten. So we find ourselves together in their wake for this long awaited union. Signed, Sir Borris Iver Kortrevich, Battle-Bard of the BSK and Court Poet of Haense
  8. "I Hate You" [!] A portrait of an adult Borris Iver Kortrevich 11th of Wzuvar und Byvca, 420 E.S. Knife in my back, All eventually goes black, Crippled from the final smack, I hate you, I hate you. Pain derived from a simple blow, The breaking of a tightly strung bow. Stress and hurt is all you sow. I hate you, I hate you. Give me the salt, a rush of gloom Give me salt, I’ll pour it on the wound. It is only yourself which brings doom. I hate you, I hate you. Nothing you say will ever change such a thing, I am sick of the destruction in which you bring. Forced to move on, yet I still feel the sting, I hate you, I hate you. You are Iblees in a humanite form. Cutting up the veil that was already torn. Something that was already deteriorated and worn I hate you, I hate you. You spurn me, wench. You insult me, wretch. You will suffer, watch. I will always hate you.
  9. “Death at Eastfleet” [!] A portrait of an adult Borris Iver Kortrevich 12th of Msitza and Dargund, 419 E.S. So let loose thine arrows, send them hurtling toward the enemy. With a single word, thousands of bolts blot out the sun as they streak across the sky. And with a single thunderous clap, the wrenched return with their own volley. Death appears to take the brave, status or none, death seeks to unify. With a single word, thousands of bolts blot out the sun as they streak across the sky. They strike flesh and stone, cracking and splintering everything they touch. Death appears to take the brave, status or none, death seeks to unify. Impaled upon the shafts of wood and iron, the pale body’s blush. They strike flesh and stone, cracking and splintering everything they touch. “Run forth, thine brethren.” I heard thee scream out, sword raised with wide grin. Impaled upon the shafts of wood and iron, the pale body’s blush. “Run forth. Kill the Bastards.” The man cried out, then crumpled in the wind. “Run forth, thine brethren.” I heard thee scream out, sword raised with wide grin. And so we did. Man, orc, and dwarf charged forth with such enraged vigor. “Run forth. Kill the Bastards.” The man cried out, then crumpled in the wind. Push through the nerve, release thine adrenaline, and maintain thine rigor. Man, orc, and dwarf charged forth with such enraged vigor. Blessed iron met with heathen steel, as both forces collided midway. Push through the nerve, release thine adrenaline, and maintain thine rigor. Slashing and bashing and cutting and slicing, fighting lasts through the day. Blessed iron met with heathen steel, as both forces collided midway. My clothes are drenched with my sweat, my armor with the blood of others. Slashing and bashing and cutting and slicing, fighting lasts through the day. Fighting lasts through the day, till each foe is struck down by Godan’s ushers. My clothes are drenched with my sweat, my armor with the blood of others. I dare not ponder if it is that of mine friend or adversary. Each foe is struck down by Godan’s ushers. Forever from this moment shall they remain sedentary. I dare not ponder if it is that of mine friend or adversary. I hear the calls of those who lay battered upon the dirt and blood. Forever from this moment shall they remain sedentary. Their pitiful cries ring out in the thin silence, a broken dam to flood. I hear the calls of our brethren who lay battered upon the dirt and blood. Doomed souls, longing for the release of death, something to relieve their strife. Their pitiful cries ring out in the thin silence, a broken dam to flood. Godan strike us down lest we forget their sacrifice. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich
  10. Selection of Poetry - Vol. 7 [!] A portrait of teenage Borris Iver Kortrevich 17th of Msitza and Dargund, 418 E.S. “Sunflower” As golden the afternoon sun, you outstretched Yourself high into the air. Tall and beautiful, you Tower above everything and everyone. Green Leaves topped with a yellow brimmed hat. “Friend Lost” The wilting of a flower, ever doomed. Sprouted from seeds of a ignorance And morphed into a beautiful bloom. Yet deep inside lies the insolence. Taken from thin air, this wisp of rose Stands before the rest in glorious display Yet approached, only further does it expose The glinting of hurt under, chaos and disarray. Molded despair which has been wrought, Agonizing venom seeps through veins, Seeping, grasping, clawing its way out. Then spews around in deadly rains. Unintentionality reeps the same bitter seed, Arising from such meager beginning to this, Inevitable destructuction, choking weed. Harvest sown greets only with an abyss. Everything has been broken, bits and Pieces scattered about across the dirt floor. “From Cracked to Shattered” Below the stars, before the window pane, I long for you but you just break my heart. So why oh why do I hold in this pain. A delicate piece of glass, work of art. Sculptured with care, encased by the rampart Brittle in nature, when dropped it shatters I try to keep it safe, out of harm’s sight Grasping it for dear life, holding it tight. “Hands of Healing” I was nothing, sunk into by fangs Yet you took me from that Terrible disposition, melding Everything back into a whole. You lead me away from such darkness and back towards light. A hand guiding me from afar. One I despised turned to greet me. When I was at my lowest This hand carefully brought Me back from my depths and Sprouting within me hope again. Friend! Friend! I will call you. I see you standing at the gates And so a move to meet you again I shall always do that now. Talked for hours, catching Up on every little detail. We laugh, we cry, we rant, yell, and share our lives. You show me how to dance, Though I step on your toes. We spin, again and again, Nervousness turns to enjoyment. There is a warmth felt inside, Different from a romantic fire. A care is exchanged, a mutual Understanding of each other. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich
  11. "Simple Joy" A Poem by Borris Iver Kortrevich [!] A portrait of teenage Borris Iver Kortrevich 13th of Joma and Umund, 417 E.S. For in the meadow, one wonders through Brush and flower, pollen tainting the cloth Yellow while thorns and bristles continuously Stab the soft skin below the clothed exterior. Yet they continue as if they feel nothing, Spinning wildly as they take in the beauty Of such fields. Dress of blue and yellow twirling About, speckles of fabric glistening in the sunlight. Regardless of its continual smacking upon the stalks, the figure never relents its dancing. Laughs resound from them, breaking the Thin silence that seemed draped upon this place. A beacon of light emits from their face, teeth In full view as they hold an ever, widening smile. Eyes wonder, noting a piece of hazy color Around, most blending into one greenish-yellow fuzz. They pause, breathless in their state of perfect bliss. Complete dizziness washes over the body, forcing the Head to still twist as the body stands still. They closely Their eyes, letting the light-headed feeling numb everything. Arms feel out to the side to balance this teetering person From falling. Expulsion of a light sigh before sight returns, focusing on the flower before it. A smile turns to a giggle, And a giggle turns to a movement. A movement leads to a run. And once again, one runs through the wildflowers.
  12. Selection of Poetry - Vol. 6 [!] A portrait of teenage Borris Iver Kortrevich 14th of Tov and Yermey, 417 E.S. Haiku Lilacs in the wind, Shimmering beauty beheld, Fields, purple and green. - A boat lost at sea, I can't see, but home calls me, It pulls me to shore. - Flutter of the wing, Sound is gone within seconds, Returned without words. - Gift upon the words, Flowers of the golden bloom, Never withering. - Death upon the air, Ingrained in a soldier’s mind, The stench of old blood. - The waters consume, Entrapped in their dark deepness, Never to see day. - Droplets of water, I flinch as they hit my face, Numbing sensation. - I long in silence, Terrified that if I spoke, You would slip away. - Endless void of space, Illuminated by stars, Twinkling at night. - Aedypapej, A leader among all men, Standing tall for us. - Snow is a gesture, It’s arms outstretched towards the ground, Sleep on white meadows. - Shame crawled through the door, Wearing nothing but wore clothes, It shrieked, then toppled. - A faint cry sounded, Pain enwrapped entirely, Only misery. - Cave built on wonder, Moonlit sky peaking through cracks, Dissolving within. “Nervous” A nervous chuckle escapes from My mouth every time I talk to you. An awkward tic, rarely ever caught And stopped, only after I came to. Thumbs round each other in circles, The soft scraping of skin calms my nerves. It soothes me, allowing me to continue Talking without stuttering or stopping. Pale cheeks lose themselves within the An ever expanding rose garden, Blazing fires cover them entirely, Burning a delicate hand’s gently touch. It is an endless cycle, the longing To talk with you despite the fright I Feel when we meet face to face. Anxious joy on a continuous loop. Even through this, I wish to be at Your side constantly, never departing.
  13. The Sturmholm Folio The works of Vorloin Baruch Vorloin Baruch, shortly after the Athera Expedition Vorloin Baruch, practicing a stage-play With the recent death of poet Vorloin Baruch, it has been requested by his will that his folio be published to the world at large. All that follows is the work of poet, who used the pen-name of Vorloin Sturmholm Editor’s note: For some reason, all of Mr Baruch’s writings refer to himself as ‘Vorion’, instead of ‘Vorloin’. Regardless of whatever caused this error, it has been corrected. ‘Almost all of these poems follow iambic pentameter, and most of them also are sonnets, with three rhyming quatrains and one couplet. Their themes range from loss and death, to love and life. May they strike your hearts, as they struck at least a couple’ - V. Baruch ((Music:)) O Father O Father, years have passed since fall of void, Yet I am left to sit and weep in prayer In days of freedom, Grief I have enjoyed Not, for that was the gift you chose to bear. O father, son of the herons marine Will you still love me as you once did then? To be a stouter son of meager means Or born a lesser prince of greater men? O father, torn from life, curse me now, words born from an acid, venomous tongue Will far outstip those that no longer vow To those whom once you genty, softly sung. They say the blood of covenant should wear Pains fierce; yet still I weep for water's share The Good Men I wonder, where have all the good men gone? I saw them ride unto the setting sun, One which they would never again see dawn, Fighting a battle that is still not won. I ask you, where do all the great kings lie? It is under a pile of ash and ruin Deathless since they were forced to cast the die, They lie, resting beside their royal kin. I pray you, where do all the lost souls go? For we see them no more, eternally They lie, lost in silver linings of snow. Lost to wisps of time, waiting, merrily. We wait for when the time should finally bend To meet again at last: all the good men Katharina’s Song If only the swans were as fair as I, They could shatter the moon with their beauty, They could ensnare the mighty lords on high, They could make Kingsguard flee from duty, If only the swans were as fair as I. If only the autumn leaves had my grace, They’d flutter as if dancers on a stage, They’d rustle as if they’d no other place, They'd read far more than any written page, If only the autumn leaves had my grace. If only the stormcrows could sing like me, They would enchant the creatures of the grove, They would lure sailors, like sirens on the sea, They would be diamond to all those who rove, If only the stormcrows could sing like me. The Sunset I passed through mists, and peered beyond the veil To see thee, at least, what seemed to be. Towards the earth the sun had set her sail, And her beauty almost matched your degree. For first I found the flowering lips of rose When, burning bright, a wildfire they blazed. How could the setting sun compare to those: The memory that shall never be erased. But soon I fell into a tender blue, The eyes which could the oceans entire keep. How could the sky hold a candle to you, When epics could be wrought for those eyes deep? And so I promise: you shall never die If here between these sheets of me you'll lie. Godan’s Muse I've ventured 'cross some cold, bleak, distant peaks, But there is naught to e’er compare to thee. The peerless blue above those velvet cheeks: The moonlight to calm every stormy sea. I rolled on waves and I’ve seen dawnings fair, But their beauty can only ever yield To radiance cast by golden strands of hair: The sunlight to sow every fallow field. I’ve cleft the ocean twain on mighty ships, But thus you made the nightingale cry: None could hope to reflect those rosen lips, A flower to charm e’ery wandering eye Then, since lands and sky all hold beauty, I so conclude that Godan’s muse was thee. The Holes of Wintertime Deep in the holes of wintertime I woke Next to your side, by a warm fire of oak. You whispered so quietly in the cold, From your lips wisps of mist did twist and fold. You spoke to me about the spring softly, Said it was made by the lord above, for me. That he made it so we could gently lie Betwixt these hills until one day we die. Hidden way from the warmth of a summer’s Sun, away from the march of the dummers’ Drums, lying under golden oaken leaves, I told you I love you beneath those trees. And yet at last, when the autumn leaves fell You said you were no more under my spell I thought I’d stay together with you, so fair, But you left me there. Soeng Karoseo And the common translation: A Song of Crows Usaer zezr haulyy haldae haenzi Wiem hag dercurvsk denraat, huil zwyzi Padrevar Ybiseo vzrarev kuz koeng Luzeng weld ag wauldlund: Kholv ag walic They poured ‘cross sea upon coasts haeseni At dawn slaying the weak and lame, then these Sons of Iblees set out unto the king Along woodlands, marshes: cold and soaking. Karos kyghyntae zwyen bottel routae Karos trazk raez humovsk viktry velyae. Krusae vatragan ag Godan zakisk: Kursin ag zvaerd usaer byk drazativsk And as honour demands that war be brought The crows struck out to seize the victory sought. Of hearth and faith they were a stalwart shield: With coats of arms and shining blades of steel. Nat lund vatragano supaes szar triek, Va rotasseran nie vokja byk tuek Tamort lafsk hauchoxtzen, lauderre, herzen. Zejr kvesja, warae laujisk aestbrein Upon the fields of flame their spears did meet And dawn ‘til dusk no army knew defeat. There fell warriors great, peasants and lords Above the mud, where Godan’s heavens poured Wiem mortesk feinvrago, tiz stratlyy rot Ag zinsk maeno weo fitsk dlum supaes Got They broke the horde, the rivers stained with blood And sang of men who gave their lives for God. ‘May the storms part in your passing' - Sturmholm family proverb
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