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A sword, crafted ages ago

In the mountains- by ancient powers

Travel through the woods, the hills

To find your roots:

A sword buried in the frozen cave, watch the glory reflect in its blade

The glory of past heroes, now gone, yet not forgotten by their trusty arms.

Take the handle and retrieve the ancestral might hidden within it's cold steel

Power foretold by the prophecy

“The power of the bearer is the will of gods, to wield the almighty blade, crushing the ones, that once crushed us. On the mountain alone he shall stand, snows and winds will be by his side.

The wind will become the war cry, opening this great battle again. The snow shall turn red from the impure blood spilt, and their temples will burn. The snow will bury their bodies, forever crushing the memory of them. And they will perish in the fight against us, the loyal servants of winter empire. This is the will of gods- restore the ancient pagan pride!”