A Taste of the Blade
From hill to hill the fires burn
To summon the armies
Spreaded across the land
For one final battle
All tribes now answer this calling to war
Gathered on the battlefield
Eager to wash their swords into enemy blood
Angry the wolf howls again in the wind
An old man steps forward and speaks these words :
" Behold, written is your fate
The land you once seek to enslave
Today will become your grave ! "
With these words spoken the battle begins
And in a roaring sound the armies meet
Bodies are shattered and screams of death fill the sky
Soon the white snow is covered with blood
Of the ones who have died
We die with the smile on our faces
Soon to be given immortality
Our enemies die in fear
Soon to be forgotten
They all fall one by one
None will live to tell the tale
And in the end we prevail !