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Stassions never die - A ballad

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Marshi

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Cc. 1958
Written and composed by
Princess Ottavia Stassion
And Lord Adrien ‘the Kingslayer’

 

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Here's the story of The Marchlands

A land both fair and great

In the year of 1952

An Independent State

This was much against the wishes

Of certain governments

Whose leaders tried to break us down

And make us all repent

 

But we're all Stassions and we'll fight through thick and thin

We'll keep our land a free land from the enemy coming in

We'll keep them east of the Constance, till that river's running dry

And this mighty land will prosper, for Stassions never die

 

They can send their men to murder

They can shout their words of hate

But the cost of keeping this land free

Can never be too great

Cause' our men and boys are fighting

For the things that they hold dear

And this land and all its people

Will never disappear

 

But we're all Stassions and we'll fight through thick and thin

We'll keep our land a free land from the enemy coming in

We'll keep them east of the Constance, till that river's running dry

And this mighty land will prosper, for Stassions never die

 

We'll preserve this little nation

For Our Children's children too

Once you're a Stassion

No other land will do

We will stand tall in the sunshine

With the truth upon our sides

And if we have to go alone

We'll go alone with pride

 

Cause' we're all Stassions and we'll fight through thick and thin

We'll keep our land a free land from the enemy coming in

We'll keep them east of the Constance, till that river's running dry

And this mighty land will prosper, for Stassions never die

 

Cause' we're all Stassions and we'll fight through thick and thin

We'll keep our land a free land from the enemy coming in

We'll keep them east of the Constance, till that river's running dry

And this mighty land will prosper, for Stassions never die



 

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Richard Stassion starts humming the tune written by his wife and friend! He picked up his infant son Baldwin, "Soon you will be a man among men!" 

 

Spoiler

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Sir Philip tore through the wardrobes and chest within his home in Veletz trying to find his Stassion drab short shorts.

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Lord Adrien "the Kingslayer" after a long hard night of writing with the Prince's wife finally agreed on a final version. "We've made a masterpiece." He commented to her.

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"Stassions never die, apparently! Though they will all die within the end of this year! Justice for the last Duke of the Raevir! Then if they don't! Hunt them all! Death to the line of the Orenians!"

 

A tribeswoman of the scattered Stran people expressed in retirement while sipping on her ale, partaking within the funeral rites of the Wisewoman of Vaska. Burning all which the wisewoman held dear over the flames. Similar to the flames which shall consume the Stassion's keep, the same flames which shall melt the crown which the Prince of Nothing wears upon his skull.

 

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