Bonus Content: Moradin Rap

A traditional Dwarven rap.

© Jason Phelps 2019.

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Lyrics
Once upon a time there were three dwarf clans Understand, clap your hands, let’s make this scan In the days before the haze of the joten sin We walked beside our living god, great Moradin

Shaped our flesh, kept it fresh, no pain in the creche Brought us down into the place where both worlds mesh Masters of the surface, queens of down below He taught us the secrets of steel and stone

Shape your life, use the strife, blade straight as a knife Steel true, that’s you, both husband and wife Five score times five, that's the sum of dwarf life Perfection’s the goal and strife is the price

But our stone became mud, a curse on our blood When the giants brought it down with a deafening thud They slew their own god, their souls became rot The price that they paid too soon was forgot

So blind with their rage, the loss of their page They came to our halls to shatter the stage Spilled blood in our homes, crunched on our bones Those left alive fled down all alone

Crushed Moradin with the weight of their sin Forced him down to the place between Life and death, a place without breath Struggling, drowning, ever in the depths

With our god dead, they left us half bred One soul alone for two newborn heads Know young Dwarf, the value of life You wouldn’t exist without The Midwife

Who reached down into the threshold Bald, gold, kept your death on hold Guided in by grim Moradin Dead but ready where the veil is thin

Forever two births, one breath, one death The legacy left by the jotun's mess Though patience, yes, is a virtue too True, for a time we withdrew

We never forgot the grudge that we hold True as gold, twice as bold, burning in our souls of old We rose again with Elven aid Left every single giant slayed

Their blood a flood began to flow We left it dashed out on the snow We stormed their fortresses of cloud Proud, thunder walls so loud

We left their kingdoms broken, dust Bust works rust Our bloodlust sated We were then fated

To raise a call to those lost halls Witness all the jotens’ fall So call a clamour, make a din Strike iron, copper, bronze and tin

The story’s end and time begins We avenge you, Moradin