[The Oracle of It was a time of change. The of the Atlantean mages had fallen before the New Praesidium, and the wolves baying at the Empire's door. An oppressive new faith was encroaching from the east, and the liege had locked the gates of his arboreal realm. And so it was that towards the end of the Age of Mystery, the last of Albion's Dragon Lords did for what would be their final battle...
[The War-song of the Lords:] rend the sky, Albion our gleaming prize, Sentinels of and sea, guardians of destiny. (Prowling the pecseatan; Draconis Bipedes, swift and furious beast of battle!)
Dragon King's Vow:] (Dragon-Runes etched by the firey tongues of the IX Legio Draconis the primordial stone of the great Logres Cromlech): The foes of this sceptred shall be driven back into the sea! An oath in battle, a vow blessed by steel, I swear by the dragon's in my veins... and the dragon's heart that pumps it!
[The War-song of the Lords:] Dragonfyre in the fray, faith and shall win the day, A god to serf and alike, the Adamantine Hammer strikes! (Devouring the infidel Draconis Nematoda, great winged worm of war!)
Dragon King's Vow:] To victory eternal... world shall be our empire! Dragon Imperium, of the Ancient Gods, behold the axiom, Wyruld-Cyninga! It is time! We shall rule, and our dominion the sun shall never set!
[12 October: I must commit this to the pages of my journal, while it is still in my recollection... not such a macabre vision could possibly soon be blissfully forgotten. Just dawn,