Riddle of Steel, Pt. 2 - Elder

The standard of the cult

And snakes of Thulsa doom

In the spirit of vengeance

I strike into the womb

If the wolves will not stop me

If the mountains are tame

Then who will stop my quest

For fortune and for fame?

To the temple of flesh

To the priests of false light

In bereavement of strength

In perversion of might

The tree of wisdom

I spill my blood upon

Crucified for vengeance

And the spirit of Crom

Sworn to fight and die for he

Who taught the riddle of steel to me

For Crom I light the pyre

And cast my enemies into the fire

Time may swallow victory

What matters not as trees grow tall

So raise your swords, today we fight

Standing proud few against all