Battle Cry

“The wind’s howl, the waves Crash
The tress weep, the wind whispers
You cannot wether this storm.
The earth moves, the egg shuffles
Their magic is strong, the walls are broken, the throne lies empty.
The wind calls out, stone withered to dust as it called out.
You cannot weather this storm.
With iron in their harts, united, unbowed, unbroken they stood
as one they answered fire in their eyes,
To wind, to storm, to all who stood against them, the people of Albion answered.

Grom Ironsheild