Thunder cracks the obsidian sky
As foul demons swarm the air
Spiraling in descent for their prey
Wicked are the black winds
Blowing through my hair
Ripe with the stench of battlefield decay

As their numbers do increase
I dig my heels deep in the ashen ground
Having yet to ever break a sweat
Marking the sacred sign
Without uttering a sound
I await for them to do their damndest yet

Look into my eyes
Witness your own mortal fears
As I grip the hilt of this elder blade
The taste of this blessed steel
Felled many a beast throughout the years
To rest in graves they themselves have made

Now the time has come
After all is said and done
For you to know I will never abdicate this throne
Never shall I give in to the evils
Of this world or the next one
No hand shall yield this blade save my own

It was entrusted to me long ago
By the kings of yesteryear
For a single purpose and that duty only
To serve and protect those around me
Lacking strength, living in fear
The weak and torn, desperate and lonely

Not caring a whit if my name is told in tales
Or inked upon historical pages
Read by the unborn generations to come
In my heart burns an eternal fire
Fanned by the sworn oath upheld for ages
To deliver prosperity to this kingdom