Mighty and fearless. Skilled with the scythe. Crusher of snails and a tavern disco dancer. Sent by the council of middle-aged warlocks. A quest to find the featherless raven. Give him a gift and ride him into war.
This quest is so stupid our mighty hero said. I rather ride a maiden in a hero king size bed. Then bust a disco move to a medieval groove. Finally end the night as so many before, passed out drunk on the tavern floor.
He is not your typical hero, but he never turns down a quest. And a magic raven could surely help, to aid him in the war against corrupted snails. They are the plague that scorch the earth. They sing their songs long into the night. A snailsong that ends a human's light.
On the shores of Ravenlore. The waves are calmly hitting the shores. The fog is thick it's hard to see, from the night a heartbreaking scream. The snails, the snails, the snails are here. If you want to live cover your ears. The snails, the snails, the snails are here. If you want to live cover your ears.
So much to life for. I don't want die. But the song is slowly boiling my insides. Please help me. Please help me. Please help me. Before it's too late.
Silence upon the restless shore. Beneath the coldest stars. Time lays a vale, on the ground, hiding tales that once was told, But nevermore.
I will never feel the scent. Of winter or spring again. My soul can't rest, I'm trapped, on the shores of Ravenlore. Please set me free.
The quest had led our hero to the shores of Ravenlore. The wind carrying whispers from beyond the grave. He promised he would avenge the death of the people from the shores. This was the gift the featherless raven had been waiting for.
A bright light shines, And up from the deeps. A glowing raven arises, With an intimidating beak.
High above the mountains. Over hills and valleys. Our hero rides the raven. The one completely shaven. Still finding time for tavern disco dancing. Finally end the night as so many before, Passed out drunk on the tavern floor.
Waking up, Next to a dwarf. She's holding his hand. Oh shit, it's time to bail. He jumps up on his raven after a glass of ale.
The only thing he leaves behind, are a pile of snail shells. He might also has forgotten his shirt. And his purse on the tavern floor. He might not be the brightest but in war he's the rightest. Arriving to a village, where the snails has already been. One lonely survivor tells the tales of what he has seen.
They came here the coldest of nights. Led by the snail riding the white. A battle swan with armor steel. We could not do nothing but kneel. Fear not peasant your savior is here, I'm the one thing the snails fear. With my scythe I will bring peace and set dead lady souls free.
So much to life for. I don't want die. But the song is slowly boiling my insides. Please help me. Please help me. Please help me. Before it's too late.
Silence upon the restless shore. Beneath the coldest stars. Time lays a vale, on the ground, hiding tales that once was told, But nevermore.
High up in the air there is a raven and a swan. Mounted by the heroes who believe they are sent by Gods, and they both are. Epic battle is fought, and from the sky a raven falls, down on the ground, with a last scream, now all is lost the snail has prevailed. The end is here.
But from the smoke a scythe flies through the air. Slicing through the flesh of snails and cutting the swan in Two. Our hero, crushes down on the last snail and finally ending the Plague, of the snails, setting the souls free, Once again will they feel the breeze. Of spring and winter winds.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
