As the cold winds blow In the dark of the night In the soulless mountain range Where there is no light In the willows, the valleys, the glens The men were marching on Resolved to fight with honor They know their end has come Atop a great white beast The general he looks on What he sees will never leave him The broken, the barren, the poor Do I lead these men to death? That they don’t deserve? He turns his head Sounds the horn Silent, they march as one They pray to gods and kings That they may survive What they do not know No man remains alive In the grip of the Dark Lord’s hand There they make their stand And so on this day, the battle they did wage Many fought and many died For the realm to be saved