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We left our homes in the north

We traveled the open seas

A virgin land ripe with fields of vine

Calling out to me

Unbeknownst to us all

On this land we were not alone

A tribe of warriors of a different breed

Left an air of fear and wonder

They opened their arms as traders

Then with arms, their fear betrayed us

Gallant we fought, outnumbered distraught

Till these Skraelings overcame us

Cast out were the northern invaders

Yet in their memories burned the longing for Vinland

The land remained uncared for generations

But in pursuit of wealth, the first are never the last

The omen in the sky burns with tragic clarity

They will return, and they ride on death’s wings

The elders prophesied vengeance

The return of the eastern tyrants

Malcontent with the world of old

They come back for blood and soil

Beware the coming plagues

The wars of supremacy

The old ways drown in a sea of conquest

The light dies on its knees