The Ebonheart Pact - Dan Bull

From Black Marsh, we are Argonians

Other breeds act harsh, treat us as lowly ‘uns

We’ve been cursed, trodden into the dirt

So we developed a thick skin, there’s little can hurt us

And when it does, we’re the best at Restoration

Quick to mend, assist a friend to get to destinations

Never raise voices, forever stay moist

In the everglade place, we settled and made choices

Never been considered as a master race

But then we’re quick to switch and adapt to change

It isn’t an idiom when we say we’re amphibian

Fill a ditch with a bit of liquid and we live in them

There’s no bigger mystery than our history

Shrouded under visions in the shadow of the Hist tree

We’re pale, vicious, what ails you, we resist

Witness our tails flick as we hail Sithis

So never start spats with the Ebonheart Pact

Or you’ll never ever, ever get your severed arm back

Whether you are governed by your head or heart that

Is irrelevant when battling the Ebonheart Pact

I said never start spats with the Ebonheart Pact

Or you’ll never ever, ever get your severed arm back

Whether you are governed by your head or heart that

Is irrelevant when battling the Ebonheart Pact

We are the Dark Elves, tackle every task well

Nobody can casts spells quite as well as ourselves

Breaking through your hard shells, taking you to half health

The greatest of the fables and the tales that the bard tells

We’re in pursuit of a higher truth

And we’ll chase it through flames, that’s why they made us fireproof

Some say we’re quite aloof but our race just might produce

The one to execute the Daedra and tie the noose

Nothing’ll touch you just as tragic as Destruction magic

Ramp it up to maximum then cast to make you rushed and panicked

Crushed and damaged, this isn’t just an anecdote

Our mana flows up so savage

We’ll leave your head pounding, leaking like a fountain

Blood coming down like lava from the Red Mountain

To underestimate the Dunmer’s a direct mistake

You’ll be torn asunder, plundered and then left to fate

So never start spats with the Ebonheart Pact

Or you’ll never ever, ever get your severed arm back

Whether you are governed by your head or heart that

Is irrelevant when battling the Ebonheart Pact

I said never start spats with the Ebonheart Pact

Or you’ll never ever, ever get your severed arm back

Whether you are governed by your head or heart that

Is irrelevant when battling the Ebonheart Pact

We are the Nords, we’re bringing hordes

Banging on the big drums to ringing chords

Singing war choruses, swinging swords

Killing all sorts of Orcs and winning wars

In the beginning was a civil war in the north

Land of Atmora, the warlord Ysgramor

Brought us to the shores of an old cold continent

Confident we’d conquer it, we conquered it with confidence

Skyrim was ours now, as it shall ever be

For we are the fiercest warriors you’ll ever see

With our two-handed weapon expertise

We’re rugged and robust, you look featherweight next to these

Combat’s a long-lasting state of ecstasy

Bring any weapon that you want, you’ll never get the best of me

No-one but the Eight Divines could ever set my destiny

Many men have tried it, now many rest in peace

So never start spats with the Ebonheart Pact

Or you’ll never ever, ever get your severed arm back

Whether you are governed by your head or heart that

Is irrelevant when battling the Ebonheart Pact

I said never start spats with the Ebonheart Pact

Or you’ll never ever, ever get your severed arm back

Whether you are governed by your head or heart that

Is irrelevant when battling the Ebonheart Pact

No-one but the Eight Divines could ever set my destiny

Many men have tried it, now many rest in peace

No-one but the Eight Divines could ever set my destiny

Many men have tried it, now many rest in peace