Introduction:
Ride, ride, a swirl of darkened blue. The two reach the lightningsdome. Quickly the Weiliaon is retracted from the amber runes, its force having grown for thousands of years. No words sufficient to describe the reunition, so none will we waste. The Nirion and the Lucifer separate and the Wielder departs for the Rainplains. Resuscitating the Tricorn, reborn in white. The Ancient Trinity is as one again. The Wielder sets his path towards the Caverns of Carving...
Deep in the earth...
"Dwarves of the Cavern of Carving, I am here for thee to pay your debts to me, if all is remembered..."
"Arrogant, what else to expect...we do not forgive so easily as man does, warrior, so do not insult us."
"An admonition or a threat, I see none in my words and I see many in yours. How long will the carving take, if I may ask?"
"You may, twelve nights and one day if you can bear the burder of the dead upon your chest, which I doubt not."
"Swift as an arrow you speed from insult to compliment, let us start the work, no time loss can I afford..."
"Huh, three followed you, they now weigh more than they used to the weight of a dwarven axe between their shoulderblades, so we have all the time we need."
Screams, screams, screams...
Arcane churning yearning
Like drowning in a wishing well, the ultimate power, the ultimost unity, let us combine this with ultimate strife and ultimate love for all that lives, and the black revulsion for those with backward mind...
An intermezzo disfilled with equivalent rash glory:
"T'would be too easy, bereft of common cold sense, are ya? Allow, you frivolous featherhead, like a light'o'love you fool with vital spirits, embracing the gods of death as you do..."
Ride, ride, a swirl of darkened blue. The two reach the lightningsdome. Quickly the Weiliaon is retracted from the amber runes, its force having grown for thousands of years. No words sufficient to describe the reunition, so none will we waste. The Nirion and the Lucifer separate and the Wielder departs for the Rainplains. Resuscitating the Tricorn, reborn in white. The Ancient Trinity is as one again. The Wielder sets his path towards the Caverns of Carving...
Deep in the earth...
"Dwarves of the Cavern of Carving, I am here for thee to pay your debts to me, if all is remembered..."
"Arrogant, what else to expect...we do not forgive so easily as man does, warrior, so do not insult us."
"An admonition or a threat, I see none in my words and I see many in yours. How long will the carving take, if I may ask?"
"You may, twelve nights and one day if you can bear the burder of the dead upon your chest, which I doubt not."
"Swift as an arrow you speed from insult to compliment, let us start the work, no time loss can I afford..."
"Huh, three followed you, they now weigh more than they used to the weight of a dwarven axe between their shoulderblades, so we have all the time we need."
Screams, screams, screams...
Arcane churning yearning
Like drowning in a wishing well, the ultimate power, the ultimost unity, let us combine this with ultimate strife and ultimate love for all that lives, and the black revulsion for those with backward mind...
An intermezzo disfilled with equivalent rash glory:
"T'would be too easy, bereft of common cold sense, are ya? Allow, you frivolous featherhead, like a light'o'love you fool with vital spirits, embracing the gods of death as you do..."