Alfsir poem

The twilight of the radiant was the dawn of men

We were at peace in the covered halls of Dokkeim

We were called to arms, to avenge a great harm

In the grand mushroom hall of Cirvaedheim

T’was a wonderful land, where grass did cover the expand

And oh how the youthful jubilance did sing

She stood several sieges, with a grand army of sages

And they called her the home of spring

We had over a dozen bands of the best warrior clans

Armed to the teeth and clad to the bone

Cloaked in raw hide with an old warriors stride

Starving for battle but thirsty for home

We came on galloping steed while drinking barrels of mead

Axes, spears, shields, and loaded down with knives

We had countless bales of the clans’ best ales

On the way to the battle of our lives

There was old Ludwig the hoot, who cared most for the loot

But the ladies came in a close second

He was playing with flare for each lass who’d dare

And the dancers all came when he beckoned

With his looks and smooth speak he made their knees weak

He got the ladies hand over fist

They all knew at a glance, when he started to prance

They’d be waking with him next morns mist

There was Bofur the boast from the banks of the coast

There was Nandur from the city of Scorched Plain

There was Vendolf the sober who was strong as a Culgar

And your man from Elysud named for his father Dain

There was Bifur the mule who was clumsy as a fool

And fighting Baefur strong from Havenor

And your man Gorin from the banks of the Flouren

Was the captain of this endeavor

There was young Rayjerus the rattle, who had a lust for battle

But the drink often got in his way

He was belching loud for the whole gathered crowd

Slurred speech obscured what he’d say

When sobriety beckoned he was a force to be reckoned

He’d smite his enemies without catching his breath

They all knew at first sight, when he started to fight

They’d be walking into the maw of the shadow of death

There was Bremren the rake from the hills of Sandrake

There was Hrogrim from the land of jewels

There was Malwig the Nymphir who could change like a Dafsir

And your friend from the city Araton named Bruels

There was Rathgar the dark who could see like a hawk

And Berserker Brill the forsaken from arid Svarteim

And your man Torin from the fields of Flouren

Was the scribe and the keeper of time

We had fought ten years with no end in sight

And the enemy began to fear us

And that war torn crew was now down to two

Just Ludwig and his cousin Rayjerus

Then the Dragon was repelled while his army was felled

They fled the fields of Cirvaedheim

Turned tail to run, victory had been won

So home they went to Dokkeim