(The scene opens on a mist-shrouded fjord. Two figures stand on the prow of a longship, their voices weaving through the roar of the crashing waves.)
The iron cold of winter’s bite,A shadow cast across the light.The raven’s wing, the wolf’s keen eye,Underneath a leaden sky.I feel the ancestors in my blood,A rising tide, a crimson flood. (The scene opens on a mist-shrouded fjord
Should the next one focus more on the or the emotional/mythological side? (Deep, rhythmic drumming begins, mimicking a heartbeat
(Deep, rhythmic drumming begins, mimicking a heartbeat. A low, distorted bass growl settles in.) Gav: (Low, melodic growl) Farewell to thunder... Peyton: (High, gritty rasp) Farewell to rain... Both: (Harmonizing in a guttural roar) THE NORTH IS CALLING OUR NAMES! Both: (Harmonizing in a guttural roar) THE NORTH
(The music drops to a heavy, tribal percussion beat. They trade lines rapidly, building tension.) Gav: We sail for honor. Peyton: We sail for gold! Gav: For the sagas... Peyton: Yet to be told! Gav: My brother’s shadow... Peyton: Walks by my side! Both: (Screamed) WITH NOWHERE LEFT FOR THE WEAK TO HIDE!
(Voice cracking with raw power)The longships dance on white-capped foam,The salt and spray shall lead us home!No chains can bind the Viking soul,To reach the shore, that is the goal!With axes high and shields aligned,Leave the peaceful world behind!