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 !