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Alfsir poem

The twilight of the radiant was the dawn of men
We were at peace in the covered halls of Dokkeim
We were called to arms, to avenge a great harm
In the grand mushroom hall of Cirvaedheim
T’was a wonderful land, where grass did cover the expand
And oh how the youthful jubilance did sing
She stood several sieges, with a grand army of sages
And they called her the home of spring

We had over a dozen bands of the best warrior clans
Armed to the teeth and clad to the bone
Cloaked in raw hide with an old warriors stride
Starving for battle but thirsty for home
We came on galloping steed while drinking barrels of mead
Axes, spears, shields, and loaded down with knives
We had countless bales of the clans’ best ales
On the way to the battle of our lives

There was old Ludwig the hoot, who cared most for the loot
But the ladies came in a close second
He was playing with flare for each lass who’d dare
And the dancers all came when he beckoned
With his looks and smooth speak he made their knees weak
He got the ladies hand over fist
They all knew at a glance, when he started to prance
They’d be waking with him next morns mist

There was Bofur the boast from the banks of the coast
There was Nandur from the city of Scorched Plain
There was Vendolf the sober who was strong as a Culgar
And your man from Elysud named for his father Dain
There was Bifur the mule who was clumsy as a fool
And fighting Baefur strong from Havenor
And your man Gorin from the banks of the Flouren
Was the captain of this endeavor

There was young Rayjerus the rattle, who had a lust for battle
But the drink often got in his way
He was belching loud for the whole gathered crowd
Slurred speech obscured what he’d say
When sobriety beckoned he was a force to be reckoned
He’d smite his enemies without catching his breath
They all knew at first sight, when he started to fight
They’d be walking into the maw of the shadow of death

There was Bremren the rake from the hills of Sandrake
There was Hrogrim from the land of jewels
There was Malwig the Nymphir who could change like a Dafsir
And your friend from the city Araton named Bruels
There was Rathgar the dark who could see like a hawk
And Berserker Brill the forsaken from arid Svarteim
And your man Torin from the fields of Flouren
Was the scribe and the keeper of time

We had fought ten years with no end in sight
And the enemy began to fear us
And that war torn crew was now down to two
Just Ludwig and his cousin Rayjerus
Then the Dragon was repelled while his army was felled
They fled the fields of Cirvaedheim
Turned tail to run, victory had been won
So home they went to Dokkeim


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