Of What They Sing
Deep in the woods of Glornac An ancient clan of witches Well-hidden, who know The secret of Parthenogenesis The art of conceiving a child without a man Has been known to them for ages This secret must not be shared Realms of Mother Nature, all undisturbed by men She, who gives and takes all And in the end we all will be one! Due to their love and respect And insight of each other They were able to receive this gift And to keep it forever But never they were to be touched by men They would never give birth again And sadly they would die! The art of... A witch has died So now there is room for a new life This circle has to remain close So now it is time for Parthenogenesis The following fullmoon They will gather on a clearing in the forest Eagerly waiting and hoping for a new one Now the miraculous ritual may begin! The chosen one steps into the circle See the others singing and dancing And take each other by the hand She, who walks in the circle To touch her beloved sisters Everyone of them is wishing her well Give a drop of your blood She will collect it in a bowl And pick some Grumbula flowers Which she can only find on the clearing in the fullmoon Mix them with the blood And heat them over a fire Which is fed with Seldan wood The blue wood of the forest A brew of flowers and of blood Hold your breath and see the chosen one Drink it and fall into deep sleep And lie on the clearing till the new dawn arrives And carrying under her heart the child to be born The art of...
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 22, 2026
Once a dwarf called Aw Achorn Heard a story told long ago "An Emerald of brightness green lies hidden in Mount Blugôrgin" Soon greed inflamed him painfully His thoughts became monstrously mean! And driven by those thoughts unclean He started his search for the sacred stone... A year of onerous search and then He finally reached Mount Blugôrgin His obsessed mind still focussed on that stone... Of course he found the entrance To the cave, inside the Emerald awaits A few more steps and then he has reached The stone that he longed for! His fingers reach out to grab the stone But his eyes dare to glance at the brightly green What he sees is not made for mortal eyes For he looks into infinity So he staggers back to the outside world His hands both put before his eyes No more greed and foolishness Forever he may now search for his peace of mind...
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026
In a time, when blood was spilled on the earth Shigdurrah, the mother of all dragons gave birth To her son, the king of dragons to come And a kingdom to rule with power so strong... His mother died early so he had to learn How to fly, to fight, to kill and to burn His enemies - human moths who destroy natures robe While for his land he was the symbol of hope His only aim was the freedom of his land But his vision of his too soon got out of hand Aware now of his powers and his invincible might He started killing creatures, no matter of wrong or right Dweorgesblod - the blood of dwarves who died by the dragon's power Dweorgesblod - the blood of dwarves who died in the dragon's fire Then the dragon fell into deep sleep A cold december covered the scars of the land, the dead humans and also the few dwarves and animals who had survived the battle... Earth and snow turned from red to white, while the dwarves gathered deep beneath the surface in their tunnels, to warm up their hearts, to remember the dead and to forge plans, how to defeat the dragon. Should he be slain, caught or suffer to death? And how to fight his firelike breath? A worm like mountains, crystal and high, with wings like two forests, to awake storms and to fly... Long was the frost, but it could not freeze their legends! Legends of dragons, cruising the air with joy and pride! The dragons of the seasons delight... Their magic, their colours, their inspiring flight! Thus they besieged him and spellbound him with his Mother's heart... half-drawn in blood and half in tears. They took away his sad and broken heart, and replaced it With Shigdurrah's, a heartlike rubin... So red and bright and full of life as Dweorgesblod - the blood of dwarves who died in the dragon's fire
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026
Wander under an ancient moon The forest lays in silent gloom My steps are soft on earthly path And drops of dew feel like a bath Can You Hear Them? Enter Their Realms... Valleys, hills and mountains high Trees and stones do breathe and sigh The elements in a circle dance Here is where my journey Can You Hear Them? Enter Their Realms... Oh, these moments That I have felt before To be part of mother nature Like a wave on a shore Valleys, hills and mountains Trees and stones and moon May they all guide me Until I meet my doom
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026