Must another storm haunt our ship?
Can’t we sail not blind by darkness?
Will we reach the shores of Moland?
Can it be that we race with nature?
We find ourselves longing for land
The feel of mountains on our hands
Many days have passed since we left,
The shores of our home, we sorely miss
I can’t see the shore of Moland,
It now seems that we’ve sailed forever
We find ourselves longing for land
The feel of mountains on our hands
See the rider,
Way up high on golden wings of wonder flies free
The storm is rising,
The depths are raging,
The blackened sky is marking you for death
The great eagle came down to take ocean’s prey
But not all can live, just one can be saved
The great Wolfrider,
He was my prey,
If you must take him,
Then suffer my wrath and hate!
The eagle’s rider,
A witch of Fryda
Saves the Wolfrider,
The rest are left to die
See the rider,
Way up high on golden wings of wonder flies free
But at what cost for the sake of all our hope?
His brave crew to die (in the eye of the storm)
See the rider,
Way up high on golden wings of wonder flies free
See the rider,
Way up high on golden wings of wonder flies free
But at what cost for the sake of all our hope?
His brave crew to die (in the eye of the storm)
Felix: “My crew! We must go back for them!”
Juran: “I’m afraid I could only save you, you’re the one we need in this fight, Wolfrider”.
Felix: “Who are you?!!
Juran: “I am Juran, the witch who seeks the destruction of Guthra and the demise of all evil in Andria, rest now, for we fly to Moland…”