@Questor ...I had to.
Heart-Song of War
It is a known, if somewhat rare magical phenomenon for a person, group, or people to spontaneously inspire and create musicals. More common in magical races and far more likely in times of joy and plenty, one would not expect one of these "heart-songs" to appear with an invasion via Dark Lord and his evil army to inspire within a magically null race. Yet in the latter stages of preparations a tune did start. Perhaps it was the sense of national unity King Garrick had inspired, perhaps it was the entirety of the population joining together for a common cause, perhaps it was just something in the spirit of the people waking up. Whatever it was, as the hour of truth grew closer, the people started humming, and then singing a new song while they worked.
Cold: the air and water flowing.
*Clang-clang* go the hammers as the blacksmiths shape and sculpt metal under them. They need more blades, more arrows and spears, more armor. The forges are run night and day to meet quota.
Hard: the land we call our home.
The farmers build the hotboxes in mass numbers, tilling earth and building structures. Local stones are dragged into place and packed with hard earth to make a few more when base matirials run dry.
Push to keep the dark from coming,
Skilled sergeants press the Militia to try and bring their skill up just a little bit higher. They don't have long, but the formation exercises help a little bit. Every bit is needed.
Feel the weight of what we owe.
Diamond Dog squads join up with the main force, fresh plate and spears glinting in the sunlight as they set to defend the pack.
This: the song of sons and daughters,
A miners town gather at the edge of town, the young and elderly waving to their departing kinsman as they marched to war.
Hide the heart of who we are.
A line of gryphons stick sharpened log points into the ground facing outward, creating a frontline. Such a thing would have limited use against flying foes, but lucky for them most of their foes were not.
Making peace to build our future,
A squad of military guards nod respectfully to the procession of Yak troops marching up to the border. The gesture is returned by the procession's leader.
Strong, united, working 'till we fall.
Two dogs pull one of the newly forged cannons onto the line, while a nearby gryphon checks a ballista's frame and adjusting the firing mechanism.
Cold: the air and water flowing.
There is an audible *clunk* as the chest filled with gold coins is set before the next mercenary squad, and they give a bloodthirsty grin.
Hard: the land we call our home.
Sparks fly from the sharpening stones as blade after blade is honed upon it. A line of fighters wait their turn nearby.
Push to keep the dark from coming,
A scout flies high in the air, sharp hawk eyes fixed on the frozen horizon. If the enemy came, they would know.
Feel the weight of what we owe.
The proud Knightly Orders march in formation to the front, their skill and discipline clear to see. Others are inspired by the sight, and drills go smoothly that day.
This: the song of sons and daughters,
A royal family, father, mother, son, and daughter, all embrace each other one last time before the parents take wing to the front alongside their honor guard.
Hide the heart of who we are.
Gryphon and Diamond Dog strap on their armor, metal with softer inner lining to keep the cold out. They then set to join the many others gathering in camp.
Making peace to build our future,
A king and his commanders sit in a tent, working out their plans for battle, and how the three races will fight alongside each other.
Strong, united, working 'till we fall.
Three races, two people's, stand side-by-side, forming ranks. Today, they are brothers.
And we all lift, and we're all adrift together, together.
Garrick Golden-Feather stands atop a raised rock, elevating him just above the vast army around him, looking to the horizon where the foe will attack from. It was a scene that would be made into painting years later.
Through the cold mist, 'till we're lifeless together, together.
Upon the distant line of horizon, even with the cold snowstorm bearing down, a far darker cloud was just visible...yet still, the sun shone.