First was the wolf and the wilds and the will And the rule of the mid-realm king Long was the night when the wolf pack was still in their wait for the gathering spring Soft was the face of the deep-hidden flower that bloomed in the whispering wood Strong was the sight of the heaven's red eye when the dawn was the scarlet of blood Then came the ship to the ice-ridden shore that carried the northern star Proud indeed was the banner they bore that flew from the uppermost spar Many a back built the citadel wall that grew on the banks of the leer Loud was the sounding of destiny's call for those with the wisdom to hear Up let the spark that that ignited the rain of sententious flint and steel Deep were the secrets the dwarf smith could name and the cauldron of gold could reveal Dear was their sister who guided the grails in the lands of the easterly dawn Steep were the banks of the river of years when their duty was finally done Strong is the pull of a name for your home and a heritage all can share Old was the wisdom the bard had once shone who had founded the land of the hare Thoughtful the moot and the future they saw and the hope they agreed to declare Gold and the pattern on history's loom were the threads they were measuring there So spread the dream like a hungering flame over Ealdormere's towns and fields Fated were they who would carry the name and the weight of the champion's steel But for the symbols in copper and hide that encircled their necks like a wreath Great was their promise as Ealdormere's pride but their stewardship doomed to be brief A warlord arose in the far southern land that spoke of a northern threat Artless the fall of his iron-clad hand and the turns of their servitude set Heavy the heart of the conqueror's son the northerner's knew as a friend Dark were the skies with a gathering storm as he told them their freedom would end Then with the heat came the summons to war and they followed the warlord's son Proudly they shouldered the burdens they bore and the praise for the battles they won Silent the war cries and tongue-less the bards as they toiled in the sand and the mud Loudly their discipline spoke of the land that whispered its name in their blood Still their were two who embodied the north, champions in all but name Low burn the embers of Ealdormere's hearth, the seeds of a slumbering flame Moved by her courage, they fought for the doe, proudly they stood in her guard Slow went that harvest and small was its yield and for many the winter was hard Heard for the south road the hills of the spring with news of a tourney won Many did wonder what summer would bring with the conqueror's dynasty done Solemn that dragon proclaimed in his heart that the law of the land should read hence That any who challenged the name of the north would answer the steel of its prince. And so was the title of Ealdormere's lord assumed by the south run king Great was the voice of the wolves of the north who were given the freedom to sing White were the blooms of the trillium flower they gathered and raised in their hearts Scarlet the bonfires that burned through the night that were seen from the cities and farms