Southern Shield
The Chaos hordes surge southward,
And we stand ready to fight.
Protectors of the southern lands,
Dawn's shield against night.
…
The northern wind is harsh and cold,
Against our skins blows hard.
But we must remain at all our posts,
We must maintain our guard.
…
Up north is the call of Chaos,
Down south call of the grave.
Death is life's final answer,
But to that say "not today."