We ate vanquished foes on another world,
Our Lord was Agatheis, and his flame
subjugated the Nevaharr, but blame
lies with us. Savage war-standard unfurled
we gloried in Nishnatoba, red-clawed
as the Scrula fell, bloodied whip and blade,
crimson tooth as well. Aldar magic played
around our bodies, fey energy gnawed
sane thoughts to shreds. Triumvirate troops
trampled on the dead, but Death rose anew
Twilight drew the dark robes of evening close
as the rebels slept, their pillowed heads droop
to final rest. Quisalis crept in through,
To slaughter Raja, in one silent group.

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Chronos, in the year 380 AF.