Shining Andraste, great of glory, great of name,
most noble of goddesses, in you did the mighty
place their faith of old. Andraste of the Iceni,
in desperate times did bright-haired Boudicca
call on you, and neither she nor you will ever
be forgotten. Andraste of the blood-stained field,
swift-riding goddess of honor and strife,
invincible mistress of contest and conflict,
friend of all those who struggle for the right,
I call to you. Andraste, you know that in this life
victory goes oft not to the good but to the strong,
and yet such a battle is well worth the fighting.

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