Whispers of the Norathari: Maidens of the Northern Woods
In Aereathor’s northern realm where silence reigns,
The Norathari dwell, a race of ancient strains.
Their secrets, mysteries, and ways untold,
Through whispered legends and tales of old.
Amidst the shadows, swift and fleet,
Their silent steps on ground they meet.
With silvered weapons, crafted well,
They guard their realm, a hidden dell.
Oh, Norathari, maidens fair,
With starlit eyes and golden hair,
A sisterhood of strength and grace,
That in the darkness finds its place.
Misanthropic thoughts, their minds do weave,
In mankind’s weakness, they believe.
Yet in their own, they find the light,
A bond unbroken, shining bright.
In quiet reverence, they seek the truth,
Bound by loyalty, their undying youth.
A living memory of times gone by,
With every star that graces the sky.
Their isolation, self-imposed and clear,
A testament to what they hold so dear.
In unity, they forge their fate,
No treachery, deceit, or hate.
Oh, Norathari, proud and strong,
In ancient woods, you do belong.
Clad in garments light and fair,
Your legacy lives on, a beacon bright.
Artwork, Music, Photos & Design © Copyright by Darkelf.com