Edain 4.7.2 veröffentlicht! / Edain 4.7.2 released!
Traitors, murderers that forswore their honour,Growing paler in time, dimmer than moonlight colour,Forgetting the sweet tastes of life,Turning then into spectres, lingering in the world upon the edge of a knife.
Versed smiths and gallant warriors, stranded in the cold,Master of ore, of steel and molten gold,Middle-earth shall not bid you fond greeting,There will you struggle, guilt-ridden and piety-seeking.
Old and very sage of the green,Prince of lost days, who seldom fails or wrong is to mean,A potent silvan lord, ruler of great bows and golden trees,Much he may presage, for very distant he sees.
Edain, very feeble and weak at the unaware eye,Men who bear the scars of time, who often mourn and sigh,There is more, harboured deep in their flaming temper,Whose candour is lively fire which evil winds don't hamper.
Long shall the grey pilgrim voyage still,For the sake of his task, and nought else to do he will,Far must he head, stumbling into wrong and trouble,Be it old woods, hidden shrines or mighty strongholds of marble.
Pure beauty, that words cannot describe,The mirror of bliss, a heavenly vibe,Who could then will to part from the Enchanted Valley?But those moved by utter folly?
Survivor of incredible fame,Elven lord, whom even infernal fire did not tame,Victor of death and doom, sent from sacred noon,Reflecting only virtue and hope-filling moon.
A steward, an old keeper,Wishing nought but good, of balance seeker,His rule grew weaker of late,As grimmer turned the prospect, lingering powerless as mere bait.
High King, thou hast borne the heaviest weight,Such was reigning at the mercy of fate,A throne worthy of legend, yet blood-stained,Until all was gone and forever waned.
Folks know you as the finest arrow,Prince of woodland, bane of filth hiding in hollow and burrow,Swift you fire your deadly dart,Sure as your goodwill, unknown to human craft or art.
Before the very gate of hell,Whence shall swarm all we deem fell,Infernal ranks seeking to kill our brotherly bond,For a last invasion, tearing asunder what we hold fond.
Stories and lies, beside the fireside,That shall you hear, clear and wide,Many tongues in the tavern, many unfriendly mates,The feeble candle makes its way through dimness and slowly fades.
Fell demon, thou shalt regret this day,As thy blade into the king's heart hath made its way,Avenged shall be the lives of the pure,Smiting thy empty ruin, while I this fate-tenson endure.
Jewel surpassing legend and tale,Today jesters recall not the song and fail,Crown of potency, which no king has worn,For it plunged his realm into tears and made it war-torn.Antique craft, suddenly lost as blows the wind swift,Meant as a token of good faith and gift,So should have augured well the fabled heirloom,It stirred instead woes and brought doom.
Thither shall you go fain,Leaving behind ruins and this very world's bane,Weary Elf, doubt not and fare ahead,Whither none gets old or even sad.