In Windhelm with the Northern chill,
Beer and Metal are life.
But foes come from Cyrodiil,
Bringing war and strife.
Bastards from that foreign empire,
To stop Metal they're bound.
But we spread like wildfire,
Engulf them with our sound.
Metal magic,
It has the power to heal.
Your wooden swords are broken,
'Cause Metal's made of Steel!
When they came to take our Metal
Our courage did not lack.
And now we fight to kill them all,
To bring the Metal back.
With Metal in ascendance,
We'll chase them from our lands.
And when we have our vengeance,
They'll all die at our hands!
Septim Empire, fearing our sound,
Launch their initial strike.
We barely hold our ground
Against the Titus Reich.
Now we press on, axe in hand,
Ride for heavy Metal!
In Riften, our final stand,
Die for heavy Metal!
A break in the fighting at nightfall
Dreaming of what could have been...
With death certain, a last ale in the hall,
But then arrives the Dovahkiin!