No prisoners! No mercy!
Dark are the depths of doom.
For doomed we are all, doomed to face darkness!
Dark are the depths of Goblin town.
No prisoners! No mercy!
The Order of Hammer charges. Darkness is filled with terror.
He does not know himself anymore.
He is nothing but a weapon, designed and perfected for killing.
There is no past, and no future.
There is no pondering, no waiting.
Only the clash of bodies.
Bone against bone
Blood against blood
Iron against iron
Force against force
Rage against rage
Ráolor raises his warhammer
Dark are the depths of doom.
For doomed we are all, doomed to drink darkness!
Foul are the depths of Goblin town.
No prisoners! No mercy!
Elf has become weapon
compassion turns to blood thirst
patience has become fervor
understanding turns to ecstasy
Solemnity is no more
Beauty is no more
Generosity is no more
Frenzy rules, glory rules, destruction governs the depths.
For dark are the depths of utter violence.
No prisoners! No mercy!
The caverns are filled with yelling
the floor is slippery with blood
the air is filled with deviant joy and ogreish fear.
The unit advances, with deadly efficiency
leaving a trace of blood, brain and smashed bones.
Veryacano gives orders. His voice cuts through the fuss
Ancalasse wields the hammer, shattering his foes
Daegond cracks Goblin skulls
Turmagor attacks like an avalanche
Annunghil 's greatsword cleaves goblin armor
Makanare slices several throats, whirling
Fingolrin defies wounds and darkness
Raolor slams an enemy with his body
hurling the shattered foe against the wall
The depths of doom are shaking.
Doomed we are, shaking darkness!
No prisoners! No mercy!
Dozens of foes jump at the elves
screeching for revenge.
But the hour belongs to the Firstborn.
Theirs is revenge, immortal their wrath!
A dark joy rises
the deviate joy of slaughter!
The hammer walks on corpses
inviting death and ruin.
Ráolor looks to the side:
with deadly precision Yrill slices through the horde,
his valiant sister-at-arms.
Dolthafaer's arrows search for Goblin blood.
The depths of blood are melting.
Doomed we are, doomed to wake darkness!
No prisoners! No mercy!
Darkness gives way.
A wounded elf, held captive.
At last!
The rescuers rush onwards.
Found, freed, embraced!
Foes fall around Themodir.
Helping hands support him
strong shoulders carry him
voices comfort him
armors defend him
hammers avenge him
arrows fly above him
Eliriael holds his arm
Norliriel watches over his wounds...
Darkness gives way.
The depths of blood are diverging,
diverging from the Eldar.
