Not so the Borderer:- bred to war, He knew the battle’s din afar, And joyed to hear it swell. His peaceful day was slothful ease; Nor harp, nor pipe, his ear could please Like the loud slogan yell. On active steed, with lance and blade, The light-armed pricker plied his trade - Let nobles fight for fame; Let vassals follow where they lead, Burghers to guard their townships bleed, But war’s the Borderer’s game. Their gain, their glory, their delight, To sleep the day, maraud the night O’er mountain, moss, and moor; Joyful to fight they took their way, Scarce caring who might win the day, Their booty was secure.
Dashboard
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Intel Profile
PlaystyleSolo (0 kills)
Avg Fleet: -
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