[Iarwain]

Clue number three:

The calimasts of Triahod,
they hidden lie, to make me sob.
The trothellshells that crackle so,
when killing I defeat my foes.
Oh faugath treal, the purshed tooth,
with poison bites but not forsooth.
And lying groth upon the throsh,
my darled body becoming slosh.
The plunging knife that scinds my blood.
Hidden about the garlish mud.

If no one can decrypt that, I'll just have to provide the answer. That, however, would be a most dissapointing turn of events.

Iarwain