THE ORACLE OF WAR:
The crows will pick your bones clean...
Never sweet the kiss of cold steel.
THE EXULTATION OF BATTLE...
THE WARRIOR:
Blades aflame with witch-fire burning,
Bright swords blessed by nine king's blood,
The elf-witch weaves war-spells upon us,
Neath the wolf-moon's gaze we shall slake our steel!
THE WARRIOR: Battle Magic empowers my thews!
THE ORACLE OF WAR: The crows will pick your bones clean...
THE WARRIOR: Red-Tooth thirsts to smite and slaughter!
THE ORACLE OF WAR: Never sweet the kiss of cold steel...
THE SHAMAN'S DECREE:
Born beneath the thrice-cursed cromlech (destined for deeds of greatness),
Three stars aligned to assauge thine newborn cries, Foretold, the hilt of
Red-Tooth awaits thine hand (kingdoms shall fall before thee!), And in the
Nine Scrolls thine death prophesized.
THE WARRIOR:
The clarion of battle beckons me... Red-Tooth crackles with searing spectral
energy. Aye, emperors and kings shall perish beneath my blade! The head of the
Eastern Chieftan adorns my spear... I've a throne to usurp! INTO THE THICK OF
THE FRAY!
THE SHAMAN'S DECREE:
This heart that pounds like a hammer,
This heart that pounds so strong,
This heart that pumps a great warrior's blood,
This heart will pound for half as long.
THE WARRIOR'S VOW:
By all the gods... I swear the ireful edge of dwarf-forged steel shall meet
all who dare stand against me! My destiny awaits... I shall carve my path in
carnage, and inscribe my saga upon the scrolls of legendry in the spilled
blood of slaughtered kings!
THE ORACLE OF WAR: Carnage! And the crows shall feast upon the eyes of the
slain!
The final dolmen of the Dark Moors is mysteriously missing, believed removed
thousands of years ago by troll war-bands as a trophy of battle...
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