Born where the high storms carve the stone, Where the frost winds teach the young alone, He learned that strength is not the shout, But what still stands when the light goes out. In Drom Varkaal the peaks run deep, Where oath is hard and blood runs steep, And every son who bears that name Must prove his worth in storm and flame. He came down from the mountain heights, Not for glory, not for praise, But to stand beneath three banners bound And give his strength to harder days. Firebeard, Firebeard, born of peak and war, Carried in the thunder, forged to bear the scar. Firebeard, Firebeard, flame against the night, They may strip the rank he wore, but not the right to fight. Firebeard, Firebeard, still the iron stands, Though the halls may speak in lies, truth remembers where he ran. He learned the shieldline, learned the weight, How dwarven iron answers fate, How patience holds where fury breaks, And how a captain guards what aches. Among the Mountain Breakers’ line He drove through storm and broken pine, A living blow, a rising name, A peak itself set fast to flame. Then came the day of ash and cries, Of smoke that blackened noon-day skies, The Emberwall was pressed to fall, And ruin thundered through the wall. He saw a dwarf lord cut away, And drove into the shattered fray, With beard aflame and armor bright, He dragged him screaming from the fight. The dwarves would speak for years of that, Of smoke and blood and searing brand, A goliath burning like a forge And still refusing to unmanned. Firebeard, Firebeard, born of peak and war, Carried in the thunder, forged to bear the scar. Firebeard, Firebeard, flame against the night, They may strip the rank he wore, but not the right to fight. Firebeard, Firebeard, still the iron stands, Though the halls may speak in lies, truth remembers where he ran. He loved a light from Aelthalan, A star-born soul, a noble hand, And what the small in spirit feared Was not his strength, but that she stayed near. They watched him rise, they watched him stand, A son of peaks in wider lands, And when the battle turned to blame, They found a man to bear their shame. The right flank broke — he held it fast, Spent his reserve where hope would last, Then came the call to save the core, Too late to change what came before. He cut his road through steel and bone, He killed the foe commander’s throne, But when he reached the center line, The Marshal fell before his time. And in the courts where silk lies feed, They named their envy duty’s need, They called it justice, called it law, And hid their vanity in awe. Firebeard, Firebeard, born of peak and war, Carried in the thunder, forged to bear the scar. Firebeard, Firebeard, flame against the night, They may strip the rank he wore, but not the right to fight. Firebeard, Firebeard, still the iron stands, Though the halls may speak in lies, truth remembers where he ran. Now deep below the dwarven stone, Old buried hatreds stir and groan, And Emberdeep still bars the way Where nightmares wake beneath the clay. So send him where the dark roads bend, A fallen captain without end, For if the world below must burn, Then Firebeard is the name returned. Firebeard, Firebeard, mountain crowned in flame, They tried to break the man with lies, but iron stays the same. Firebeard, Firebeard, oath beneath the scar, From Drom Varkaal to Karak’s halls, they know how strong you are. Firebeard, Firebeard, still the thunder rolls, And every road that leads to war still answers to your soul.