A storm rolls from the sea,covering the land with black thunder clouds,rain whips the ground at their feet,as they come ashore in this foreign land.
Thunder brakes the silence of five hundred men assemble on shore,gazing through the misty rain,at the mountian not a mile away,so dark the silence it stands there,the mighty AMON AMARTH.Reaching for the cloudcloked skies,so grim
and fearful in might.
With the wind in their backs they start walking,decisive men of the north,
they strive through darkned land,with only mount doom in their sight,the closer they get to the mountian,the clearer their eyes can see,a forest of one thousand spears awaiting,awaiting the battle that will be.
A cry of war emerges,echoes over the field,bodley charging the enemy lines.
With veapons so fearsome and sharp in their hand,and shields of oakwood and steel,they slit open stomachs, and split sculls to the jaw,intestants cover the field.
The defenders are weak in this brutal war,the northmen have a power and guts, a bloodshed like no one has seen here before,none can escape their cuts.
Arrows with fire fly through the air,touching houses and shields,the vikings can feel victory is near,as the enemy headlessly flees.
A gust of wind blows in from the north,clearing the clouds away, as twilight falls and the stars come forth,and the seawolves return to the bay.
Corpses lie scattered all over the field,for the ravens to eat as they please, the mountian is now left there behind,as they sail with the first morning breeze.
Thunder brakes the silence of five hundred men assemble on shore,gazing through the misty rain,at the mountian not a mile away,so dark the silence it stands there,the mighty AMON AMARTH.Reaching for the cloudcloked skies,so grim
and fearful in might.
With the wind in their backs they start walking,decisive men of the north,
they strive through darkned land,with only mount doom in their sight,the closer they get to the mountian,the clearer their eyes can see,a forest of one thousand spears awaiting,awaiting the battle that will be.
A cry of war emerges,echoes over the field,bodley charging the enemy lines.
With veapons so fearsome and sharp in their hand,and shields of oakwood and steel,they slit open stomachs, and split sculls to the jaw,intestants cover the field.
The defenders are weak in this brutal war,the northmen have a power and guts, a bloodshed like no one has seen here before,none can escape their cuts.
Arrows with fire fly through the air,touching houses and shields,the vikings can feel victory is near,as the enemy headlessly flees.
A gust of wind blows in from the north,clearing the clouds away, as twilight falls and the stars come forth,and the seawolves return to the bay.
Corpses lie scattered all over the field,for the ravens to eat as they please, the mountian is now left there behind,as they sail with the first morning breeze.