Lorebook: Songs of the Norrin
Songs of the Norrin
LORE
Faere Fall and Fallow Tyde
(Excerpt from the Norrin epic, The Lay of Faenir)
Faere fall and fallow tyde, Friggid wynds blow winter-chill; Dusk-hearth lande Faenir rydes, Brusk alofte in frosted hande.
Hoofe-beats tremble steppe and stone, Wylde-hunt quakes the earth belowe; Skys are cloaked in stormes unborn, Tempers sharpe, hearts bounde in wrothe.
Iron-rimed whispers, rune-carved stones, Shadows stryde neath black-moon watch; Wolven-song spills twysted pynes, Somethynge dark beneath the frost.
Faenir rydes through blackest nyghtes, Burning Brusk, a flayming brande; Held alofte, unyielding fyre, Starless firmament doth quake.
War-cry swalled in wynter's throate, Deathe swift comes, but silence swifter; Bodies strewn cross ice-bound lande, Warriors proude now bones unmade.
Cold-haft plung’d in hearts of men, Braeking bodies, unmending souls; Yet beneath this silent fielde, Murmurings, old Yggthr breathes.
Wayting pacient, wyse and olde, Still as fyrst-star’s distant gleame; Faere fall and fallow tyde, Faenir’s name the ravens calle.
Stormcall to the Shield-Wall
Harke ye waves ashore, breathe life anewe, From friggid depths where Thalrik dreams; Seabourne whispers rise to spewe, Forgotten songs from Ulthar's streams.
Salt-mist shrouds the Isle of Karr, Where Brannor's stones in silence stand; By lightless moons, beneath the star, Wyld windes bless old Vaelmar's land.
Eldarr runes in driftwood lie, Echoes borne on tidale breath; Mysteries taught by gods on high, In whysper'd rites to cheat the deathe.
Hulda walks the blackened shore, Spear of Yldir raised in pride; The waves recount what came before, Saga bounde to ebbing tyde.
Mounds stir gently, moss and stone, Belowe, olde bones begin to wake; Anveir's horn, in somber tone, Calls warriors forth from earth’s embrace.
Rise ye, Norrin, shield-wall forme, Proud beneath dark skies anew; From depths of sea and heart of storme, The olde blood calls ye homeward true.
Harke ye waves, awaken ye, Vaelmar’s sons and daughters ryse; Breathe life anewe, hold fast to sea, Till stars reclaim their ancient skies.
Torvald’s Lament
(Excerpt from Of Waves and Wylde Hearts, the Norrin saga of the lovers known as Torvald and Sigrun)
Traveler, harke, and sit ye neare, A tale I'll weave of Sigrun deare; Across ice-wastes my harte did seeke, Her voice more sweet than fayre-bird's speeke.
Through froste-clad lands I tred aloyne, Guided by dreams old Thalrik's shown; Where thorne-ways cut through flesh and boyne, Skyfyre burned to gyde my waye, To finde my love ere end of daye.
My cloak in tatters, wyndes did teare, My beard as white as vaelwarg-haire; Yet hearte as hotte as Brusk aflame, Did pulse and call aloud her nayme.
I faced the wyrme of Eldgrim's laire, With teeth as swords, a gaze of feare; Its scales as harde as runic stone, Yet courage helde my blade alone.
Through marshes darke, I waded deepe, Where spiryts lost their vigil keepe; Their mournful cries called me to stray, Yet thoughts of her kept me my waye.
I crossed the bridge of Yldir’s fyre, Whose flames consume each foule desyre; Yet my true love burned bright and cleare, No flame could take what I held deare.
Within darke woods, 'neath starveiled skeine, Her whispers stirred through snowe-softe reine; Her face, a vision sylver-brighte, Yet lost againe each fleeting nyghte.
Stone-fanged peaks loomed colde and steepe, Ancestral paths where secrets sleepe; Yet onward pressed my weary feete, Through shadow-vales, my love to meete.
On cliffes of sea stood Sigrun feyre, Eyes glistening with grief-held care; Anveir's horn mourned through the aire; Her teares encased by winter's breath, I raced to her past realms of deathe.
Till dawn-breake, traveller, brought me peace, My footsteps neare, her sorrow cease; At last embraced, brief joye we helde, Yet cruel fate our love dispellede.
A single touche, a kyss of payne, The seas reclaimed my forme againe; Yet traveler, knowe this lore is true, Though lost to waves, my hearte she knewe.