Fræwulf, Bane of DarknessEdit
This is an old Domusian poem, that tells of how the world came to have light. It is a firm favourite amongst bards, and is, like many other tales, protected under the 2012 National Literature Act. It has been translated from the ancient runes of Rauros.
Of old when darkness swept the world,
stories men, by fire told.
One tale in halls was always sung,
that through the land its echo rung.
Fræwulf, said the wisest men,
would give the world its light again;
'The veil that shrouds the plains of Nirn,
his flaming sword will cut open'.
But years they passed and not a word,
from North nor South nor West was heard.
Winter morrow, first of frost,
where in the snow all warmth is lost.
Northern Eaðras, of wood and ice,
came forth a rider, who then thrice
bellowed in the bitter air,
and gave men hope in such despair.
For Fræwulf that rider were,
sword and helm of bright silver.
Thence from shadows the Dark Lord came,
and filled undead hordes on noble plains,
and Fræwulf readied thanes and horse,
to fight against the Dark Lord's force.
And he the hero led the men,
and slaughtered draugr soldiers ten.
And then it were he and Gerfringas,
But too much power the Dark Lord has.
So Fræwulf went to Sovngarde,
for though the undead king he slew,
his strength was spent, the fight too hard,
his brave sword-thanes had proved too few.