What War Is For (Larsa's Song)
Song of Orc Paladin, Larsa Brightblade! Lyrics: I was raised for war. Now I choose what war is for. Raised on iron, bred for war, Taught that mercy made us small. Scars were proof we could take more; Kindness had no place at all. Then through the blood, I understood: Strength is measured by what it guards. I took the oath. I chose my fight: Shield for the weak. Sword for the right. Let the graves crack. Let shadows crawl. Let horned things climb the temple walls. I do not bend. I do not yield. They break on steel. I hold the field. Shield for the weak! Sword for the right! I am the wall where the dead meet the light. Let grave-kings rise. Let hell-gates roar— I am Larsa Brightblade. I know what war is for. Slayer of the undead! Bane of the night! Smiter of demons! Bearer of light! Stand at my back when the grave-hosts arrive. I am Larsa Brightblade. You will survive. Six hooves hammer; headstones shake. Sleipnir charges where corpses wake. Through shattered gates and charnel fields, We bring the dawn; the darkness yields. No grave too deep. No gate too wide. No fiend escapes our charging stride. When dead hands claw beneath moonlit skies, We ride as one where courage dies. Let crypt-kings rise in rusted mail. Let demons claw through every veil. I do not bend. I do not kneel. They break on faith and tempered steel. Shield for the weak! Sword for the right! I am the wall where the dead meet the light. Let grave-kings rise. Let hell-gates roar— I am Larsa Brightblade. I know what war is for. Slayer of the undead! Bane of the night! Smiter of demons! Bearer of light! Stand at my back when the grave-hosts arrive. I am Larsa Brightblade. You will survive. Undead— Back to the grave. Unholy— Meet the blade. Demons— Face the light. Stand behind me. I hold the line. They taught me strength was what you take, How many bones your hands could break. I learned the strongest choose to stand Between the helpless and the damned. Compassion does not make me yield. Mercy is the strength I wield. I did not flee the blood in me— I chose what strength was meant to be. So raise the dead. Unchain the night. The orc you forged now guards the light. Shield for the weak! Sword for the right! I am the wall where the dead meet the light. Let grave-kings rise. Let hell-gates roar— I am Larsa Brightblade. I know what war is for. Slayer of the undead! Bane of the night! Smiter of demons! Bearer of light! Stand at my back when the grave-hosts arrive. I am Larsa Brightblade. You will survive. Shield for the weak! Sword for the right! I hold the line. I carry the light. Let death itself come pounding at the door— I am Larsa Brightblade. I know what war is for. I was raised for war. Now I choose what war is for.

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