From the greatest mountian,
the eagle will fly to thee,
The snow tops the rocks,
the clear sky is all you see.
Bitter ground is frozen,
your feet crunch the ground,
Keen eyes look around you,
The Northlands have no sound.
From warrior, to wanderer,
A North beast holds the key.
From shrublands to meadows,
I can see you, but you cannot see me.
The cooling air blows around you,
The bitter cold is at your feet.
The weather of the Northlands,
wants you to howl defeat.
Many villages around there,
but many are hidden with care.
Fighters, mercenarys, and warriors,
Will kill you if their aware.
The North is full of danger,
but to certain beast its called a home.
Wanderers and travlers,
who love danger and like to Roam.
So if you visit the North,
beware if your full of peace,
Don't run into anyone,
for fear of being deceased!