AN: This poem is styled in a derivative of the Eddic formula, just like the great epic Beowulf. I originally planned it to be a Lore piece for my Blackreach Chronicles series, but they have taken a long pause. I'm currently directing my focus to this.

Notice: For ease of memorization and emphasis, important verses rhyme, but eddic is primarily forged with alliterative verse. If you keep reading, you'll find the pattern.

I Hope you all enjoy it! Please read and review; constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

The Blackreach Edda

"Into the Deep"

The deep dwelt forgotten
Of dwarves and their hammers

But clankings and clickings,
So clever, remained

And wrought in their wreaking
Of wrathful constructions,

Ferociously fearsome,
The Falmer now reigned

Chittered they so chillingly,
In Chitin of Chaurus

As blinded and blemished
As bleached in the skin

Betrayed in the bastions,
As beasts, now had wandered

These goblins, these gremlins,
Are graceful no more

In a most freezing Frostfall,
Frontier of the Pale,

A cluster of clansmen
Had cleared through caves cloven

Once banished, abandoned
But bound to be tread

Where cauldrons and coffins,
Gold coins by the dozen,

Had hailed through the hallows,
'The Halls of the Dead'

The droppings of Draugr
Had drawn yet the soldiers

Whose opals, opalescent,
Unopened to Fate

And swords known for swaying,
For swinging, had bitten

Had pierced through the peaceful,
Now purged through their ends

Yet fires had followed
Through the flames of their hearts

And blown through their blades,
Unblemished of fear

Like tempest their tempers
Of tumult ne'er bred

Had bloodied their blades,
Then, and blazed through 'the Dead"!

The monsters, out-mettled,
Had met their last ends

Their chambers once cherished
Now churlish towards life

Now hollow lay the halls
No horrors left waiting

Spare the posts of Nord puzzles,
Imperiled most preciously,

And the most weaned of warrior's-
Named Wulfheart- bone plating

So ornery an orc
Stood "Orphan Lord" Wulfheart
The slayer of fathers and mothers alike

For troubled with treason,
and trained by Nord parents
Forgotten by family left fending in dikes

This churlish of churls,
A child by war,
Of War, and of warriors he'd wager his life

A legion of leaders
Had lust for his fury
His ferocity, the fortunes it brought through his strife

The trinkets of troll bones,
Entrenched through his steel,

Let known to his knights how
They needed his power

The doors then dawned open,
And daring of men,

The Orphan Lord ordered
The Oracle to-hour:

"Listen now, brave Wulfheart, brave leader of brazen,
Within these dark walls, you shan't hark your haven
Ol Mora has mentioned these moors in my sleep:
'Don't enter nor encroach an inch of the Deep'. "