Deep within Icewynderkyl,
Amidst the ice and snow,
There once were trees of glorious green,
In times long, long ago.

For deep within Icewynderkyl,
The dryads roamed, so fair.
And this is where great Father stalked,
Seeking His prey there.

Oh, deep within Icewynderkyl,
The Nightmare found His quarry,
And sought to give out His Elixir,
Beneath black skies so starry.

Alas! But in Icewynderkyl,
Shrouded in its pines,
The dryads fretted fearfully,
A tremble down their spines.

"He cannot!" claimed the Larch,
Who stood before the rest,
"We'll go before the Elders!,
"It really is what's best!"

Oh, woe, within Icewynderkyl,
For the dryads, they'd forgotten,
That the vila, beauteous and sweet,
By the Nightmare were begotten.

The vila in Icewynderkyl,
Had heard this plot of theirs,
And woe, they rushed into the Haze,
To warn the great Nightmare.

He raged across Icewynderkyl,
A howling, spiteful wind,
To remind the fearful dryads
His power, deep within.

Suffering plagued Icewynderkyl,
The trees ashen, dead and cracked,
And from within their corpses,
He brought forth the spriggan, warped and black.

But 'lo, within Icewynderkyl,
There were four left alive.
The Larch, Pine, Fir and Spruce, you see,
Were left there, to survive.

Trapped in dead Icewynderkyl,
Bound within their trees,
Those four poor dryads watched, aghast,
As their home sunk to its knees.

The fall of fair Icewynderkyl
Was cruel and absolute,
And now all that remains of it,
Are mountains, without roots.

What cruelty wrought Icewynderkyl,
A lesson, cold and brutal,
That those who work against the Haze,
Will find their work most futile.