Forward: This is a song which was written in appreciation of the efforts of the mages of the Sixth Legion of the White Rose, who fought ever so valiently to protect the denizens of Ager Terra from their own Folly, and it become an Armageddon tradition from that point forth(we are now in the Thirteenth Legion). Every Age, on the Reset of the Great Final Battle, I took to our stage, to recite the following for my beloved Legionnaires.
Today, I recite it for you, as part of my efforts to include much of our Guild's history and traditions with the rest of Terra and Norrath. Though the Legion has moved on to bigger and better things, its spirit still lives on in the hearts and minds of all who hear the legends of the mighty Legion of the White Rose.[/b]
He stood upon the Sacred ground,
his promise strong and Honourbound.
The boy Guildmaster watched the sun,
and knew the day was nearly done.
(He knew their days were nearly done.)
He thought upon his Sacred vows,
whilst worry etched upon his brow.
The sky turned red to end the day,
and yet the lad still watched away.
(He wouldn't turn to look away.)
His simple garb, a secret hid.
Dressed like a guard - a peasant kid.
For if they knew, they'd try to protect,
the Guildmaster of all Respect.
(They'd surely die for his respect.)
His need was dire. His means were here.
Would they break from all the fear?
Did they stand with him this day,
With evil's end upon its way?
(The Gods' ending was on its way.)
Through the ranks, he wander'd 'bout.
He listen'd for all hint of doubt.
His head held high, his jaw set firm,
and still no worries had he heard.
(From their lips, no fear was heard.)
The night was long, and tense enough.
He watched his men sleep in the rough.
They'd gathered here to serve their Lord,
and would die for his reward.
(Twas his respect that was reward.)
The dawn was breaking. Men awoke.
With gruffer tones, the captain spoke.
He said to take in all the slack,
He'd march us till we broke our backs.
(For Honour, they would break their backs.)
The boy Guildmaster took his place,
he grabbed some water - cleaned his face.
He marched along without disguise,
and smiled when they would recognize.
(They looked, and saw, and recognized.)
He hid no more. There was no need.
They urged on him to take the lead.
With a gentle no and boyish grin,
he simply marched beside his men.
(He proudly marched beside his men.)
Death would come for one and all,
and these brave souls would surely fall.
Yet fighting against certain failure,
still was better than surrender.
(Death would come, but no surrender.)
