The trio of strangers looked to each other as the warm hearthlight of the hall illuminated them. Their armor was a writhing mass of Cinnabar and silvery stringlike clumps connecting the joints. Onyx in paint but mottled with the revealed red metal from countless years of wear and tear. Their helmets were bug eyed, massive reflective orbs with incalculable fractal points, and a long pointed proboscis like tube connected downward to their chests.
The lead of their company stepped into the hall and the two others followed. Their presence silent save the mechanical whir, whine, and thunk of their boots. Their lead reached up with sharp metal hands and removed their helmet. Her face was like one of many others, soft, pointed, pale, and bestowed with two great curling horns. A Merlyn no doubt, who bowed, and stood with hand outstretched.
“I am Merlyn Dewr Arthyr, champion of the Order of the Drake. We are a small band, for we have come upon a new way in the Isles of our Home, and we have a long journey to see it to it’s port. We have no wealth save that which has been given, no servants save those who stand with us, and no lands but for that which is open. We come to you in our maiden voyage, pulled by stories of you Heralds, and fair Rhinnar. We ask of you to make a Banner for us, to proudly carry into peril, and have little to offer save this poem we uncovered when we came upon the Dragon World. The bedrock upon which we were inspired to take this path, buried in soot, and mired in the ash of this new frontier.”
The other two Merlyn removed their sharp gauntlets and produced strange jagged metal lutes with strings made of their own hair as Dewr Arthyr began to sing.
The nameless kingdom
Under the mountains so far
Lies a kingdom old as the stars
Crafters of the golden runes
Now, they lay in golden tombs
The Beor, Vulf, Aegle Claw
All were one
no-one foresaw
That the mountains they all
shared as one
Would be attacked
And come undone
Many tales like this are told
Of dwarves who ruled in times of old
Who's metals and jewels were the finest of all
Who's greedy nature caused them to fall
[Intoning Hymns Break]
Though the kingdom holds no name
Lost to time, the Dwarven pain
We tell the tale of what we lost
For the price of Greed
Wields a deadly cost
The mountains we trek
Cannot be owned
With heart of gold
And skin of stone
And plentiful
The mountain gives
To those Who gives back
To help it live
And those who take
With no return
Shall find themselves
Without a home
For Greed awakens
The mountains rage
And kingdoms crash down
Unto a new age