Sig Nordal

Resting his arm on a mountain top, a Giant, with iron staff in hand.
Guardian of the southlands, watching over sea and land.
From dawn of time, whispering secrets to weary souls.
Resting their head on mountain slope,
drifting into land of dream, who will live or die.
Through the coming battle cry.
Until, hate is erased by the Light, shattering the night.