Our village, lies at the brink, of being cast away,
orcs come in greater hordes,
the easterlings have come to play..
Our chieftain calls for me,
"I need you to seek new and strong friends,
set forth my son take what you need!"
I set foot at the Carrock.. and climb the mighty stone tower
I breathe the air.. and accept my road,
To a place, where warriors wait, as my folk faces death from the east..
Before duty calls, I turn around one last time,
to see my land a final time, the place where my life had begun..
Straight through the streams, below the pinetrees,
Wandering I go,
Straight through the streams, onwards to the western seas,
With the spirits and luck as my guide!
..
