First was the wolf and the wilds and the will And the rule of the mid-realm king Long was the night when the wolf pack was still in their wait for the gathering spring Soft was the face of the deep-hidden flower that bloomed in the whispering wood Strong was the sight of the heaven's red eye when the dawn was the scarlet of blood Then came the ship to the ice-ridden shore that carried the northern star Proud indeed was the banner they bore that flew from the uppermost spar Many a back built the citadel wall that grew on the banks of the leer Loud was the sounding of destiny's call for those with the wisdom to hear Up let the spark that that ignited the rain of sententious flint and steel Deep were the secrets the dwarf smith could name and the cauldron of gold could reveal Dear was their sister who guided the grails in the lands of the easterly dawn Steep were the banks of the river of years when their duty was finally done Strong is the pull of a name for your home and a heritage all can share Old was the wisdom the bard had once shone who had founded the land of the hare Thoughtful the moot and the future they saw and the hope they agreed to declare Gold and the pattern on history's loom were the threads they were measuring there