The Scribe’s Duty: The Keeper of the Ledger by SecondApproach

[Chorus]
Servants to the king in the morning light,
Guarding the order through the longest night.
Paper and ink, the foundation of the state,
We write the future and we seal the fate.
We are the quiet architects of law,
The unseen hand, the tooth without the claw.
The ledger lives when the flesh is dust,
A thousand years of duty and of trust.

[Verse 2]
The mountain trails are shifting with the thaw,
But we remain to uphold the letter of the law.
The Howell duty is to watch and wait,
To note the passage through the iron gate.
We hear the rumors of the northern breed,
The ones who run with wild and reckless speed.
They lack the paper and they lack the seal,
They only know the turning of the wheel.
But we are building something that will stand,
When empires crumble and desert the land.
We carve the history in careful script,
From every mountain top and every crypt.
The duty deepens with the passing year,
The Howell vision making all things clear.

[Bridge]
The horn calls out across the valley floor,
A warning sound of what may lie in store.
The Howey shadows gather on the crest,
To put our rigid systems to the test.
But we have files that span a hundred miles,
And logic hidden in our measured smiles.
They bring the horseplay, we bring the decree,
The balance of the land is what we see.
Let them roam the meadow and the glade,
We hold the contracts for the debts they’ve paid.
The kingdom breathes because we hold the pen,
The silent masters of the hearts of men.

[Verse 3]
The evening falls and candles start to burn,
For there is always more for us to learn.
The Howell lineage is forged in ink,
Connected more than any man might think.
We are the sentinels of truth and fact,
The masters of the complicated act.
The scribe’s duty is a heavy load,
To write the map for every winding road.
The future stretches far beyond the ken,
Of lesser lords and less precise of men.
We close the heavy book and seal the latch,
The Howell spirit remains the perfect match.

[Outro]
The ink is drying on the final page,
A record kept for a burgeoning age.
The Howell duty is now set in stone,
A foundation laid for a future throne.
The horn fades out into the misty deep,
While all the laws are safe and held in sleep.
The second song is written in the dark,
The Howells leave their everlasting mark.

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[Verse 1] The vellum stretches thin across the frame, To house the records of the royal name. Each boundary marked by pile and stone and tree, Is logged within the Howell registry. We count the cattle on the rolling slope, The sum of labor and the sum of hope. The king demands the tithe of grain and hide, And we are here to ensure there’s naught to hide. The ink is darker than the deepest cave, A silent promise that we try to save. We sit in rooms of cold and drafty gray, To keep the chaos of the world at bay. A thousand figures lined in perfect rows, The only garden that the Howell grows. [Chorus] Servants to the king in the morning light, Guarding the order through the longest night. Paper and ink, the foundation of the state, We write the future and we seal the fate. We are the quiet architects of law, The unseen hand, the tooth without the claw. The ledger lives when the flesh is dust, A thousand years of duty and of trust. [Verse 2] The mountain trails are shifting with the thaw, But we remain to uphold the letter of the law. The Howell duty is to watch and wait, To note the passage through the iron gate. We hear the rumors of the northern breed, The ones who run with wild and reckless speed. They lack the paper and they lack the seal, They only know the turning of the wheel. But we are building something that will stand, When empires crumble and desert the land. We carve the history in careful script, From every mountain top and every crypt. The duty deepens with the passing year, The Howell vision making all things clear. [Chorus] Servants to the king in the morning light, Guarding the order through the longest night. Paper and ink, the foundation of the state, We write the future and we seal the fate. We are the quiet architects of law, The unseen hand, the tooth without the claw. The ledger lives when the flesh is dust, A thousand years of duty and of trust. [Bridge] The horn calls out across the valley floor, A warning sound of what may lie in store. The Howey shadows gather on the crest, To put our rigid systems to the test. But we have files that span a hundred miles, And logic hidden in our measured smiles. They bring the horseplay, we bring the decree, The balance of the land is what we see. Let them roam the meadow and the glade, We hold the contracts for the debts they’ve paid. The kingdom breathes because we hold the pen, The silent masters of the hearts of men. [Verse 3] The evening falls and candles start to burn, For there is always more for us to learn. The Howell lineage is forged in ink, Connected more than any man might think. We are the sentinels of truth and fact, The masters of the complicated act. The scribe’s duty is a heavy load, To write the map for every winding road. The future stretches far beyond the ken, Of lesser lords and less precise of men. We close the heavy book and seal the latch, The Howell spirit remains the perfect match. [Chorus] Servants to the king in the morning light, Guarding the order through the longest night. Paper and ink, the foundation of the state, We write the future and we seal the fate. We are the quiet architects of law, The unseen hand, the tooth without the claw. The ledger lives when the flesh is dust, A thousand years of duty and of trust. [Outro] The ink is drying on the final page, A record kept for a burgeoning age. The Howell duty is now set in stone, A foundation laid for a future throne. The horn fades out into the misty deep, While all the laws are safe and held in sleep. The second song is written in the dark, The Howells leave their everlasting mark.

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