Difference between revisions of "Clarimond/Introduction"

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imported>Clarimond
imported>Clarimond
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<p>Winters come and winters pass<br />
 
<p>Winters come and winters pass<br />
Tenty years have gone<br />
+
Twenty years have gone<br />
 
Like a dream we fade away<br />
 
Like a dream we fade away<br />
 
Into oblivion</p>
 
Into oblivion</p>

Revision as of 09:35, 10 July 2014

Clarimond Harcourt is nearly one thousand years old. She was born to a Norman noble in the year of 1046, a descendant of Norse conquerors who settled northern France, and her bloodline is purely of this proud stock. She married a man of noble blood, also a Norman, and she accompanied him when William the Conqueror took the English crown. But their happiness did not last long.. the embrace happened. That is all she usually tells people as far as her history goes. If she trusts you, she may tell more, but this trust is not normally easy to win.


She speaks French, English, and Norse


We were the warriors of the north
Notorious and brave
We'd never lost a fight in war
We feared not the grave

The ruler of this northern court
My brother, lord, king
He always had our loyal swords
But we would feel his sting

The ageing king had no decendants
No heir to take his throne
It filled his soul with fear
Transcendent
That next in line was my first-born

The king's heart grew
Full of dark deception
Full of foul conspiracy
This was when dark days
Had their inception
And we fell to his vile deceit

Robbed of arms, robbed of pride
But he spared our lives
The fear he had of Oden's wrath
Held his vengeful knife

With hearts so cold we left our homes
Banished from our land
A life in shame, a life in grief
Until we rise again

Winters come, winters pass
Twenty wasted years
We're ageing men, our youth is gone
We will shed no tears

Winters come and winters pass
Twenty years have gone
Like a dream we fade away
Into oblivion

We are the warriors of the north
Notorious and brave
We're old but strong as before
And we don't fear the grave

From the south an army rises
They ride under cross of gold
From the shades we're called
In a time of crisis
To defend the king now weak and old

As the flames of warfare rage higher
We feel our destiny's embrace
We are ageing men of an old empire
Now we can see Valhalla's gates

"Warriors of the North" by Amon Amarth