Text: Summoning. Ashen Cold.

A grin and a word is his trade
From these his profit is made
Though his body is not tall and his courage seems small
His fame will take longer to fade

Beyond the ocean brews a battle
Beyond the battle blood shall fall
To a place where man forsaken
Dwells the one who should not live

Then a bargain shall be entered
Saurons might shall be restored
You and we were first to conquer
You and we shall be the last.

[Sample:]
[1. The world is grey, the mountain's old. The forges fire is ashen cold.]