\"As the village greets a new day,
The old Crow cries atop the pine.
Spiritually bounded with nature
And all creatures, great and small,
The hunting families sense danger
As the cry of the old Crow continues.
A rumble, at first loud enough to a human ear,
Grows into a deafening storm
Of hooves thundering across the frozen tundra.
Then bursts into the
Village, four times five riders clad in in armor black.
Swords drawn glimmering int the awakening sun's light.
Throats are slit.
Beautiful bodies fall to the frozen ground
And limbs of able men are stewn
Across the snow covered plains.
The blood colors the white snow red.
Women and children are brought far north.
Hidden under the foliage of a majestic
Tree, a ten year-old boy.
When the shadows ahorse can no longer be heard,
He crawls out from his hideout to seek his loved ones.
Not a sound.
Not a movement.
No sign of life
And thus begins the saga of Blood On Ice\" fuente: musica.com