O have you seen Lord Tolgedaath With helm of steel and silver-gray He wandered lone through mighty hills And kept the undead hordes at bay. He swung his ax in fearsome arcs He knocked their rotting heads He walked alone, and lonesome caves Were where he made his beds Their cloying stench, their tattered flesh, He tore with blade and brawn But then the plague broke through his shield. He never saw the dawn.
O have you seen Lost Tolgedaath With helm of green and flesh of gray? He wanders still through lonely hills. Though never by the light of day.