Crisp snowflakes on the air,
Mingle with the scent of smoke,
Exhilaration of forest scent,
Uphill trek to the gates.
A city of pines,
Fortress of timbers,
Guard against the winter ills,
Shelter of the stout of heart.
Songs of old to ale a flowing,
Dwarven tales of yore,
Mighty was the falling,
Evil struck down at the wall.
Nestled now in nature's rest,
Roots grown deep as trees,
Gather again the ancient clans,
Should again the fastness have need.
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