Stormsong

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## Stormsong, The Soul of Azeroth

WIP, tell me if I messed up anything - Palayen

Formatting is still under construction, keep adding to the page! - Aeriyth

## Materials

* Blood of the Mountain, the heart of a Genesaur, and a wolfpelt from Tanaan Jungle along with other various metals from Ashton Ironblood.
* Soil from Azeroth from Mike.
* A feather of pure arcane from the Ranger Lady's pauldrons.
* Three drops of Sunwell water from Acaelus Alkestes.
* The Dawnsreach family necklace from Scout-Captain Ylandra Dawnsreach.
* A dragon egg-shaped crystal imbued with a portion of Dal'litha Manawhisper's life essence.
* Runestone with an inscription of Khaz'Goroth from Foghas.
* A shard off of Ranger Benedict Crimsonshot's bow.
* A shard of Palayen's crystal hammer, imbued with the Light.
* A gem with the blessing of the Sunwell from Vor'taria Ara'lith.

## ​General Details

* Owned by Lt. Stroim Stormbeard of the Dwarven Vanguard
* Forged by Ashton Ironblood of House Ravenshield

## Ballad

***-Written in a heavily stylized penmanship, the top line read "The Ballad of Stormsong and the Vanguard of Gorgrond, by Ashton Ironblood"-***

*In the red cliffs of the mountains we breathe

The few, the saddened, our bleed and seethe

The red cliffs of mountains, the blood on our arms

The fire of the foundry, indignant alarms

The shattered planks upon which we tread

The few in the satchel, the brave and the dead

And to all those that stood, they stood one foot less

Their lifeblood spilling onto their breast

The lightning cackled, and feathers flew in the sky

The cries of the damned, our truest alibi

In the red cliffs of the mountain, we mourned our feathers lost

In the red mountainside, did we speak with tongue soft

And the fires they roared, and our hearts we did strike

Atop that crescent moon, did we set our pike

And atop that pike our banners did wave

All the remained, of the few and the brave

Our hearts were with lead, and our spirits were dulled

No song sang that night, no ale draught or poured

With a hammer and anvil, we remembered the deeds

Of the journey we had carved, and the stones that now bleed

We raised our hammers, and told the tales of our dreams in the metal

For the sake of our brothers and sisters, who’s loyalty was fatal

In the red cliffs of the mountains, did we regale

The Path of Glory, and the Jungle’s red trail

In the red cliffs of the mountains, did we surmise

The Flatlands, the Siegeworks, and the Mother’s demise

In the red cliffs of the mountains, did we fight and bleed

Against the Genesaur we rode, and his corpse did we need

And atop our righteous wind, did we fly straight and true

To the gates of the Foundry, it’s metal a reddish hue

And inside, to the woe of the Campaign

Was a Gorian, a comrade’s head on his blade

His men crushed the lines, and plunged into a pit

Many a brave soldier, their lives now forfeit

Among them, a hawk, with the body of lion

Who’s heart and whose wings tamed the horizon

In the pit did he plunge, to save many men

And in the pit did he find his end

In this we remember, the Song of a Storm

A moment in time, in weapon reborn

Reborn in this hammer, a memory so dear

That neither ogre will tremble at the storm coming near.*