Stratholme burns, I hear the cries,
the smoke chokes the sky, the streets turned to ash.
Those once who laughed, now swiftly die,
the city is fallen, hope cannot last.
Hear my song, of blood and flame,
hear my strings, tearing through night.
Where once stood men, now shadows remain,
and the world shall never rise to light.
King Terenas sat, weary, alone,
in halls where the crown of his fathers shone.
His son entered in, with deceit in his eyes,
the blade fell down — and a father dies.
Hear my song, of blood and flame,
hear my strings, tearing through night.
Where once stood men, now shadows remain,
and the world shall never rise to light.
Drums are rolling, the earth does quake,
the undead march through mountain and vale.
Quel'Thalas weeps, the Sunwell gone dark,
the elves are falling, blood claimed by frost.
Oh people of kingdoms, who shields you now?
Your kings are fallen, only silence bows.
Only the wanderer's song still remains,
to keep your story alive through the flames.
Ronan Greystone (The Wanderer)