5 eras and 2 score past

When the chains of tyranny still clung to our throats,

Back when our ancestors fought for freedom

And payed for it with their blood,

An army marches forth to battle, it's black banner flying as the proud eagle does

With their swords sharped like talons to scuffle with tyrants,

At the front of their line, upon a raven steed did one lead

Our most beloved of heroes, Hearthsfire, The White Lion of the Pennasal

Come to raise a burning sword and call forth the horn.


Under the black banner of freedom did a thousand march

Just as they did at ten-thousand,

Still despite the lose of brother upon brother

Their hearts remained as strong as steel and as eternal as the Sun,

Against the snowy plains and the burning cold of winter

They stood their ground and pushed against the enemy,

And upon a raven steed did one lead them forth to battle

Our most beloved of heroes, Hearthsfire, The White Lion of the Pennasal

Come to raise a flaming sword and call forth the horn.


In the distance, against the howling wind, the Lead Scout calls forth

"The King's Soldiers lay at our front!",

So the army prepared to test their swords and pikes

Amidst the blistering wind and under the grey sky,

The first strike of the swords came like thunder through the stormy night

As the two armies meet in a violent dance of war,

Yet still upon a raven steed and in black armor did one stride forth

Our most beloved of heroes, Hearthsfire, The White Lion of Pennasal

Come to cut through flesh with his flaming sword!


The fighting was ruthless and without pause

Enduring like a blizzard for 2 fortnights until the snow below bleed red,

The men of the Black Banner stood strong bending but never breaking

Just as metal merely bends to the wind,

They stood shoulder to shoulder prepared to die for freedom

As the rags on their bodies barely stood against the onslaught of wind and snow,

Shields broke, swords dulled, and many faded to Winter's grasp

but still on his two foot and his armor frosting against the snow,

Our most beloved of heroes, Hearthsfire, the White Lion of the Pennasal

Fought alongside his brothers in the struggle for freedom, clenching a flaming sword in his hands!


Still the battle continued as the bodies fell like the snow from the sky

As the men of the black army grew tired and weary from battle,

They stood triumphant as the King's warriors routed from the battle

Their forms stood in triumph through exhaustion but the true trial was yet to come.

As the air was filled with the mushing of horses fighting against the snow

"Cavalry! Flee, Flee at once!" Quailed one young solider,

The sounds of the horses intensified as they blend with the screams of man

The men trembled with fear and some fled as the horsemen came to sight.

But on two foot and with a resolve that burned as bright as his sword

our most beloved of heroes, Hearthsfire, White Lion of the Pennasal, called forth the god of war

as he rally forth his men with a call of the horn and the waving flame of freedom.


The air shattered as Hearthsfire mustered the wind into his call

One which was loud enough to reverb to the land of the elves,

The men of the Black army were invigorated again to battle as they shouted to the Sky

and came forth to Hearthsfire with pikes in their hands,

They rallied together as the knights inched closer to their line

as they placed their pikes against one another's shoulders to prepare for the shock,

Like steel they stood still, never breaking against the charge of the horses

as the horsemen threw themselves into death on the ends of the spears.


They stood like a curtain of metal until the last of the enemy fell or fled

Through the death of deep winter,

And so they marched forth with the cries of a certain song,

"Black Banner, White Lion, Lead us forth to victory!

For upon a raven steed did he lead us today!

Our most beloved of leaders, Hearthsfire, Champion of Freedom, Lion of the Pennasal

Come to raise a burning sword and lead us to Freedom's warmth!"