The Prophecy of The Arkenheart
King Beneath the Mountain, King Closer the Clouds,
is fated to fall through skies far below the ground.
While his heart still sleeps, his body battles the crowd
of pale, ghastly beasts. 'Til death, he is forever bound.
Spring flower, come hither! Oh, so sweet and aglow,
grey wings sweep you from your woodland abode.
You endure and glisten in tides of rippling, roaring dark.
Henceforth, heal a hidden and restive and war-riddled heart.
Erupting from his ill-fated lair, we'll raise the Worm of Dread.
Shatter clouds, the sun and stars, haunted by the searing dead.
Wings beat so strong, yet ashes of gold in the serpent's tomb.
Watch our magnificent beast make decent into glorious doom.
The chief of Durin's Folk, much loyal and true, shall thus triumph.
King of Silver Fountains, at last, now able to offer his nation asylum.
Though he sits with all riches, finally at Lonely Mountain's summit,
gold is not flesh and silver not breath, and so he shall thus plummet.
His kingdom reborn, yet his awoken heart naive to the break.
His soul in the rock, yet his love lain across woodland and lake.
He desires to weave braids of love and faith upon a loyal maid,
and protect her sacred blood with a thousand dwarfish blades.
If air upon his mountain is weak, his braided flower shall thus wilt.
The Oak be felled–and, too, the realm that Dwarfish kings built.
If the King does not mistake passion for pride, he is not so blind.
Should he glimpse the true Arkenstone, its reign shall be sublime.
Queen Under the Mountain befalls upon a beautiful gem.
She follows her fate, her lineage, and all shall duly amend.
She will attain pride, force, valour, honour and wisdom.
Twelve sprites are bound to Oaken King's lady blossom.