lords

the lords of the passes are arming their vassals, you'll find no shelter that way, the conscripts they've taken have never returned, and our hopes fade with each passing day, the gates of the keeps are all closing, and broken men wander the road, the farmers have fled to the forests, burning their fields as they go, the dukes of the marches have ordered their archers, to shoot all outlanders on sight, turn back your horses before it's too late, there'll be no safe crossing this night, hear the horns, pounding hooves, visions of cities aflame, wailing cries, dawn of doom, die by the sword or in chains, men kneel in temples of madness, false prophets spread discord and fear, darkness descends once again, they say the lords of the last days rule here