By Echo Vinum
You stand blazened and tall ready to fight. For your honor and wealth you'll battle all night. You'll raise up your weapon high in the air untill you force your enemies to scream in despair.
Your armor is the best that money can buy. You owe your life to your god on high, for in the battle you seldom retreat untill you can no longer stand on your feet.
Your love is a healer with sun in her hair who when you're wounded seems always to care. She comes to your aid as quick as she can then watches you walk off to battle again.
Your most prized possesion rests in your hand. It has saved your life and defended your land. You carry it with you wherever you go and use it most proudly to strike at your foe.
You'll defend the honor of many a lady and shorten the life of all who are shady. A victor you'll come home from many a fight proudly bragging of your strength and your might.
You serve as a hero, a soldier of glory. You drink your ale and you share your story. You're called on by many, and loved by all. A warrior you are till in death you do fall.