Muse

The Ballad Of Islfar – by the bard Syrabus

I forbid thee warriors all,
To go down to Islfar,
Find thee rest amid the graves,
With greaves that bind thy legs toward war.

We the elves of Lyrissia,
Fogotten not from centuries war,
Grant thee respite far and wide,
But don’t go down to Islfar.

Make your war with mal intent,
Slay your kin with hearts of stone,
Wage your war with lack of sense,
But you cannot conquer a wise man’s throne.

Islfar—It’s secret told,
Founded with a wize man’s gold,
Islfar—a learned hold,
Faith in providence unsold.

Ivy halls of librams old,
Circles of unbroken will,
Islfar—a wise man’s tale,
And wisdom over war prevails,
And wisdom over war prevails.

I forbid thee warriors all,
To go down to Islfar,
Find thy rest amid the graves,
With greaves that march thy legs toward war.

Ivy halls of librams old,
Circles of unbroken will,
Islfar—a wise man’s tale,
And wisdom over war prevails.

The Land of Chaal

by the bard Syrabus

When you have doubt,

Surrounded by foes,

You call to the saints,

But they are not close.

You look to the sky,

And it wants to fall,

That is the way,

The way of Chaal.

The way of Chaal,

Like a broken shard,

Try to remember a day,

When life was not hard.

You'd put your trust in a friend,

But he met the dagger's end,

It's life for us all,

In the land of Chaal.

It's life after all,

In the land of Chaal...