My city, my home,
just crumbled castle walls.
Flames and fear,
and burning horse stalls.

Flight of the wicked,
with forked tongues.
Burned my home to the ground,
with flames hot as the sun.

Art thou afraid,
of the flying beasts,
that ravage our lands,
and eat all of sheep?

Art thou afraid,
of the flame wailing beasts,
that **** all our people,
with the slightest of shrieks.

Raise your hands brethren,
raise your swords high!
For tonight, for our people,
we die!

To free the lands,
of this wretched, cruel beast,
we must swing our swords strong,
and show we're not weak.

We must clash with flesh,
and slash and slay,
for the people we love,
for our city, our home.