["The men of Brisingard rarely display a single sign of their noble ancestry; their village was once the mighty capital of men, before the first orc raids began. With the east growing increasingly perilous, the most wealthy and privileged sought a new home among the elven ruins of the west, and the poor were left behind to face the creatures of the northern Darklands with whatever means they could. Their king, now no more than a chieftain, still proudly sits upon the golden throne in full imperial regalia, ruling no more than a few hundred and seems more jester than King. Only one important task was left to his line by Ethil I, first king of Westmar; to safeguard the Century Horn of Mount Farnor, built in ancient times to gather all peoples of Dragonland once blewn into. And such is the only hope of the Islander and his dwarven companion, but the vain King of the East is no longer the horn's sole guardian - a foul beast, unseen by any man now lurks on the mountain top, according to local lore; a fabled savage Frost Giant"] Deepest into the east Where vast ridges meet the Ivory shores Winds of the Zephyr chill the blood in frostbitten hearts Treacherous! Furious! Surely the mountain will bring us to fall Lord of the winds Let our passage be swift Ruler of mist in this age-old ruin King of the East Let the trials begin Grant me the secret for I seek the Century Horn of Mount Farnor As a blizzard draws near upon the highest mountain we stand thundering footsteps strike a fear into our hearts Vicious thrall! Answer our call! Hear us, come forth and unveil who you are! Lord of the storm To this quest I am sworn Ruler of mist on this age-old mountain King of your kin Let your trials begin! Speak me your riddles for I seek the Century Horn of Mount Farnor First; the answer is clear But dawn breaks before the second word's voiced One final riddle strikes despair into our hearts Queen of leaves! Returned to me! Surely, your words bring the giant to fall! Lord of the bones So assured of your throne Ruler of men among thousand towers King of your kin Now your war will begin! Thousands are gathering as I sound the Century Horn of Mount Farnor Devious! Glorious! Brother, I will find you wherever you are!