visions of ice, lake of black night
riding for dawn for the sake of his kind
rivers of blood, horde of the beast
beating of shields, gnashing of teeth
return from the waste, the golden crane flies
lord of the lakes from a forgotten time
resigned to his fate, riding alone
he forfeits his life in spite of the throne

one with the blade, sworn sword of the witch
seeking the void and the cold it permits
secrets revealed when his aura is read
seven towers in ruin circle his head
borderland armies will all bend the knee
last of his line, fallen malkieri
sheathing the blade, he surrenders his life
in turn slits the throat of the lord of the blight

armies gather
behind the banner
the golden crane
will fly again

waging a one man war
riding alone against the shadow
death is lighter than a feather
duty is heavier than a mountain

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