A son of Mammoths, Tiger’s clan
He came upon the Stolen Lands.
By sword he smote, and rage he swore
To subjugate all in his war.
But pride for pride, and blood for blood,
With Gorum’s aid, did he succumb
To boasting loud, with haughty eye
That he, Armag, would never die.
To Gozreh and Pharasma’s eyes
The boast was nothing but a lie.
’How dare,’ said they, ‘Armag should cry
’That he, mere man, should never die!’
The Pale One plotted from her home
To steal him to her Yard of Bones.
When she and Gozreh had their way,
That time was Armag’s dying day.
Red dragon sent by vengeful gods
Ripped out Armag’s heart with its claws.
But Gorum had last laugh that day;
Armag’s black soul was here to stay.
Ovinrbaane, so named the Sword
Was crafted by the Iron Lord
To keep the warrior’s soul interred
Until the stars had their last word.
And born again, he shall return
To widow wives, your fields to burn.
Twice-Born, Armag, with damning cry
Shall show the gods he’ll never die.
Gyronna’s chosen, without Name!
Black Sisters wielding hatred’s flame!
They’ll crack the Earth, and bleed the Sky:
Armag Twice-Born shall never die!