Hellchild, be awaken time to remember the rules the centuries bleed, the masters are dead and gone... Dance again this winternoght past and present shell unite run for the burial enter the vesper again. The rummors suppose godforsaken are those that will bath in the gloss of whatever... Dance again this winternight past and present shell unite run for the burial enter the vesper again.
OF SCEPTRE the mysteries speak. THEIR ASHES in the lande of the lords. MAY grounds ban the stones of their head? BE one with the spawn of the dead!