Root

Greetings From The Abyss

Root


We invoke, invoke, invoke you our master
We, the chosen ones, beg you
For the command to the ultimate attack

We can´t hesitate, they are coming
Our streeds stand ready, swords shining
So give the ultimate command!

Charge!

The prince of death flies above the battlefield
Blood, sweat, dust, scream of horses´ neighing
Red clouds cover the scene

...and then the horns will blow
And the enemy will be swept into nothingness
...only dust and ashes!

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