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- "Ill omens my friend, look, |
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Ymir's blood drifts into the dawning sun, and colours it as red as raven's mead, |
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I warn you again of this dark ambition!" |
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[Vidar:] |
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- "Nay, my destiny is writ in stone, as it is for all men. |
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Fear not or fear greatly, for our wyrd is upon us! |
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May the gods watch our path, and Tyr light our way. |
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The doom of our folk is upon us. Quickly they ever fall to the sign of the southern cross. |
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Our fate must be decided! |
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We must sail at once!" |
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[Halvdan:] |
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- "To the north, then?" |
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[Vidar:] |
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- "Aye... to the north..." |
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The red runes spoke of these dark days |
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A tale forgotten beneath the dying sun |
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A darkened plague, eclipsing all that should be |
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To the north we sail, beyond the mists of time |
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From ancient lore, a stone from above |
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In the farthest north, beneath the ice and snow |
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To turn back the southern shadow, |
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To reverse the river of Freya's tears |
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"That ninth I know: if need there be, |
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To guard a ship in a gale. |
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The wind I calm, and the waves also |
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And wholly soothe the sea." - Havamal |
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Walvater do not desert us |
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We throw the last spear, across the field of history |
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To pierce the side of the martyr |
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To rape the fields of their lies |
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We dream of the dawn, of honour and legend |
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To burn brighter than a thousand suns |
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Our song will lift high, our blood will run deep |
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Into the veins of the earth, and colour the snow |