Current Progress:
Long ago, in the southern mountains cold, of Skyrim's Pride and of Black Marsh born.
We make our home, among the wooded hills,
on Mount DarkSky, we make our stand.
We live on, The Lilmothiit,
Most of us, exist no more.
Some kind we never forget,
One race we will never forgive.
We are not extinct yet,
We will fight as long as we live!
All eyes on the hidden gate,
into Tribe Velos's hold.
We will ride in the gathering storm,
until we gain our long forgotten home.