As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
"Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."
So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move.
Chaos Lorebook: The Assassins of Chaos
-
Like an arrow drawn from its quiver, so were the carach sent forth from
their towers of dread iron. And like arrows in flight, so are the carach in
their p...
Il y a 7 heures