"You will hear my commands when cries never fade!""I grasp my pole-ax in hand wi th stock, steel, and mace!""I clutch the soulless winds that stir the Ginder tre es!""I extol beneath a wrathful, yet a constant lunar eye!"The last clash will c rown one son to the Pictish throne."My father's the king!" cries this tyrant, ai med for bloodshed.Three flags will fly between the Esk and Dee rivers."The trium ph's my king!" screams this baron son, devised for war.Follow the tracks of this mailed horseman (geared with pole-ax in his hand).The blades from Balkan Hills are sharpened (cut for slaying and whetted to fight).The child has proven his ga llantry (he shall not abuse Teutonic codes).He's spiked and sent forth in a fren zy (their king sits at his table)."Far free of these castle walls, I thought I h eard your scream!"This Is The Highland Tyrant Attack!They eradicate the feeble b y their Celtic law of tanistry.Highland Tyrant Attack!The rank of the cnihthad i s the onslaught for their enemies.Highland Tyrant Attack!Garters on their left a rms are fastened for chivalry.Highland Tyrant Attack!All of the vanquished batta lions are thrown into the corries.Highland Tyrant Attack!They eradicate the feeb le by their Celtic law of tanistry.Highland Tyrant Attack!The rank of the cnihth ad is the onslaught for their enemies.Highland Tyrant Attack!"Our flags have soa red O'er the Esk and Dee rivers!""We, the cnihts, are crowned for tier and not o ur lies!""Horse and Hattock took us back to the realm of Balkan Hills!""We, the cnihts, have formed the lines, before the rites!""We'el pursue to spit on their pledge and curse them, as the light breaks!""...But is our king still sitting at his table?"
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