Charge...Ensorcelled maelstrom blades whirling,
Conjuring dragonstorms...
New winter risen, fed to the Daemon - Wyrms...
Elder heathen ritual, invocation of the Gods
Our swords are held up, ablaze in the sky
As mighty Stribog’s gales of essence
Strike again, charge again...
In preparation of war, sharpened is my sword
For I’ll fight with the winds
And the storms on my side
With my spear in my hand and my sword
I’ll fight with the winds
And the storms on my side...
Elder storms of fire, dreamscapes open
Before us, new lands...
It is time to conquer, to win
"When my dying hour has come, I will feast
among the Gods for I fought with the gales of
essence on my side...On the top of Svitogor
(sitting in the Heroes’ Hall...), I will raise my
drinking-horn to all those who fell and bled in
the name of our Gods..."

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