North King
blech
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 18,165
In the brazen fires of old
Where silver gleamed untarnished,
The coals are bright with heat and flame,
Their hue a kindling crimson.
From here we drew the blade that drew
Itself a deadly blessing:
The steady stream of life which bled
From open wounds a thousand.
Oh, loud the hammers, always falling,
Striking every time;
The sparks from blackened anvil flew,
And smoke would curl skyward.
The fires of forges kindled bright
To herald our days rising,
And out would come ten thousand spears
To herald their days dying.
Oh, sentry keep your warhorn close,
For onward comes the evil:
Fell beasts from north and west alike,
Their teeth alone can kill.
Yet heft the spear and drive it true,
For foul can die from such;
And fair should dawn the days for eer,
If only we fight fiercely.
So let the breastplates burnished brightly
Gleam on every soldier;
Let Oran with his mighty blessings
Give them strength to stay,
And keep out spear and arrow swift
A massive shield painted
With golden axe and cobalt sea,
The standard of our kingdom.
Now issued forth the Ereval,
A host both fair and mighty.
Their helmets shone with silver bright,
And sapphires in the sun.
Behind them lay the marble city
With temples, towers, homes,
And Orans dome stood high above
To fill their hearts with pride.
Forth the Ereval shall march
Into the darkened west,
To drive their foes from every field
And scatter them to the winds.
This host, so mighty, ventures on;
No fear can strike their hearts,
And red will run the rivers all
Before this war is done.
Forth rides Arius, king of kings;
And none can match his blade,
A hero born to old Drusis,
The bearer of the brand.
A gallant man whose lively eyes
Shall see us through to glory,
The king rules over earth and sky
Death to his foes be dealt.
Forth rides Tian Lan, a king
From the east he hails.
His dragon helm and fearsome blade
Shall make his foes all fear.
Drenched in blood by battles end,
He will bring naught but honor
Unto the Kanese peoples tale
Of when they rode beside us.
Forth rides David, Lord of Lyre
A bronze axe hanging by him,
Its blows are always swift and cruel
Its hacks cannot be parried.
His mind and might are bent to war
None are known to match him
But of course, the greatest king,
Alas, they ride together.
Forth rides Marius, Priest of Oran
Descended from the line,
His exploits not yet sung by many
Surely tales will come.
He holds the godly standard high
And brings his army omens
They speak, of course, of war and death
But only for our foes.
Forth, then, rides the king corrupt;
He rules a ruined Nazar.
Forth rides Mufti, dreaded king,
Whose words are merely wind.
Forth rides Mufti, valiant king,
A slaver and a craven.
His blade will break and banner burn,
An Empire be replaced.
Forth rides one whose blade is black,
Erutogeros king.
A brave and worthy foe is he,
As are his warriors many.
Yet for the false have they declared,
An Empire ashen grey.
Thus must they fall, though maybe slow,
Into the gaping dark.
Oh, mark this day, ye men of morrow:
The day when Empires clash.
For we sing Aurai Ereva,
And they shant sing at all.
Where silver gleamed untarnished,
The coals are bright with heat and flame,
Their hue a kindling crimson.
From here we drew the blade that drew
Itself a deadly blessing:
The steady stream of life which bled
From open wounds a thousand.
Oh, loud the hammers, always falling,
Striking every time;
The sparks from blackened anvil flew,
And smoke would curl skyward.
The fires of forges kindled bright
To herald our days rising,
And out would come ten thousand spears
To herald their days dying.
Oh, sentry keep your warhorn close,
For onward comes the evil:
Fell beasts from north and west alike,
Their teeth alone can kill.
Yet heft the spear and drive it true,
For foul can die from such;
And fair should dawn the days for eer,
If only we fight fiercely.
So let the breastplates burnished brightly
Gleam on every soldier;
Let Oran with his mighty blessings
Give them strength to stay,
And keep out spear and arrow swift
A massive shield painted
With golden axe and cobalt sea,
The standard of our kingdom.
Now issued forth the Ereval,
A host both fair and mighty.
Their helmets shone with silver bright,
And sapphires in the sun.
Behind them lay the marble city
With temples, towers, homes,
And Orans dome stood high above
To fill their hearts with pride.
Forth the Ereval shall march
Into the darkened west,
To drive their foes from every field
And scatter them to the winds.
This host, so mighty, ventures on;
No fear can strike their hearts,
And red will run the rivers all
Before this war is done.
Forth rides Arius, king of kings;
And none can match his blade,
A hero born to old Drusis,
The bearer of the brand.
A gallant man whose lively eyes
Shall see us through to glory,
The king rules over earth and sky
Death to his foes be dealt.
Forth rides Tian Lan, a king
From the east he hails.
His dragon helm and fearsome blade
Shall make his foes all fear.
Drenched in blood by battles end,
He will bring naught but honor
Unto the Kanese peoples tale
Of when they rode beside us.
Forth rides David, Lord of Lyre
A bronze axe hanging by him,
Its blows are always swift and cruel
Its hacks cannot be parried.
His mind and might are bent to war
None are known to match him
But of course, the greatest king,
Alas, they ride together.
Forth rides Marius, Priest of Oran
Descended from the line,
His exploits not yet sung by many
Surely tales will come.
He holds the godly standard high
And brings his army omens
They speak, of course, of war and death
But only for our foes.
Forth, then, rides the king corrupt;
He rules a ruined Nazar.
Forth rides Mufti, dreaded king,
Whose words are merely wind.
Forth rides Mufti, valiant king,
A slaver and a craven.
His blade will break and banner burn,
An Empire be replaced.
Forth rides one whose blade is black,
Erutogeros king.
A brave and worthy foe is he,
As are his warriors many.
Yet for the false have they declared,
An Empire ashen grey.
Thus must they fall, though maybe slow,
Into the gaping dark.
Oh, mark this day, ye men of morrow:
The day when Empires clash.
For we sing Aurai Ereva,
And they shant sing at all.