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Lord of the Silver Spears is a song originating in the Fifteenth Legion. It sarcastically commemorates the death of the Exiled Prince at the Battle of Three Hills. While the song itself is humorous, it is set to the cadence of a Legion quick march, making it practical to sing while on the march.

Origin and History Edit

The first major battle of the Fifteenth Legion was the Battle of Three Hills, where they fought against the larger but more poorly organized forces of the Silver Spears. Before the battle, the Exiled Prince came ahead of his troops and, using magic to augment his voice, challenged Catherine Foundling to single combat. Catherine instead ordered Nauk to shoot him with a crossbow. The shot went low, and would have been a chest wound that a combat hero could easily fight though, but the bolt was deflected by an enchantment in his armor to ward it against arrows. Because he was not wearing his helmet, the enchantment deflected the bolt directly into his throat, killing him instantly.

After his death, the Silver Spears lost their discipline and leadership, allowing Catherine and Juniper to wipe out many of them with relatively few losses. They lost many of their number and most of their cavalry, and fled the field in disarray allowing the Fifteenth to track down and kill many more.

The Legions generally tend to be quite fond of commemorating major and especially entertaining events in song. The exact writer of Lord of the Silver Spears is unknown. It was first sung by a large group while the Fifteenth were marching towards Summerholm. Catherine noted that most of them were terrible singers but that with the number singing it was hard to even tell. She further noted that singing song seemed to help keep up morale, and that she saw no reason to make them stop.

Lyrics Edit

He was a prince and a handsome lad,
On a pretty white horse, all iron-clad.
His lance was silver but his heart gold,
A peerless champion, or so we’re told.
Oh! The Lord of the Silver Spears!

So he cornered us on a muddy hill,
His knights were up and eager to kill.
But he said halt! We need not fight!
Only the she-witch will die tonight!
Oh! The Lord of the Silver Spears!

He rode up to us and rang his horn,
Called out the Boss with all his scorn.
Then sat there idle, proud as all Hells,
Waiting while she bid her farewells.
Oh! The Lord of the Silver Spears!

So we shot him, right through the throat.
So much for that armour and all the gloat,
So learn the lesson from that sad day –
Fuck with the Fifteenth and you’ll pay!
Oh! Poor Lord of the Silver Spears!