I survey the land before me,
Green hills, dark rich earth, dusky grey sky soon to be laden with stars.
Not tonight. Tonight shall turn the sky molten, the soil parched and the barbarians slain.
Soon it will be time to unleash the flame, the fiery chariots wheeling across and under, devouring straw, cloth and bones.
The barbarians who have invaded this misty isle and butchered my people; rivers of blood soaking this precious soil.
The flesh left out for the crows to pick at, bones to decorate the hearth.
Those who have defiled my daughters shall pay by the flickering flame of my fire.
I look over at my army of faithful blue and light the torch.
Splinters of light catch my eye.
We throw as one.
Tongues of flame, bright as the silken strands tumbling around my shoulders, skip and frolic in their devious dance.
Revenge shall be in our name, Victorious!
Reflected in the eyes of Andraste, guiding us as sure as the hare's flight is swift and true.
To the battle we pledge, the Roman rule to be broken at all cost.
The flames are reaching to their heights, it is time to fight.
Nothing to be lost.