Bard the Bowman

— My people offered you help. And in return, you brought upon them only ruin and death.
— When did Lake-town come to our aid but for the promise of rich reward?
— A bargain was struck!
— A bargain? What choice did we have but to barter our birthright for blankets and food? To ransom our future in exchange for our freedom? You call that a fair trade?

The lord of the silver fountains.
The King of carven stone.
The King beneath the mountain
shall come into his own!
And the bell shall ring in gladness
at the Mountain King's return.
But all shall fail in sadness.
And the lake will shine and burn.