Down dark streets of cold moss-grown stone
I come to the shambling face unknown -
A voiceless troll walks by my side,
And to the Gate he stands beside.
Before the silent troll I make
Black sacrifice and speak those Names
That only echo in man's most fearful dreams.
The Gate groans open letting me pass,
Rightfully here by after-birthed Wyrd and Freyja's stars
Do I walk past. Cloaked I stand now alone to take the Oath
Before Hel's Elder Throne -
She laughs and draws her hood aside
To let my eyes rest awile, upon the
Mist that resides, behind the mask that never hides.