Граф Орлов
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-- The Calcite are savage and bloodthirsty; the desert winds have dried up their hearts. In lean years, their mothers nurse them with their own blood, and when they grow up and devour their own kind, their strength increases with each gruesome meal. They feel no pain and will fight until their hearts stop or their heads are cut off. The worst of them will gather in the citadel on the Day of the Great Slaughter, on the twelfth day of the first month. Perhaps, after that day, none of us will see another dawn...
Ushumgallu chuckled menacingly.
-- Just kidding. It's a good idea, but let's not go to Ruzaniel. Otherwise, they'll pick our pockets faster than in the temple of the benevolent Nammu Ai, and what's more, we'll probably enjoy it.
Ushumgallu chuckled menacingly.
-- Just kidding. It's a good idea, but let's not go to Ruzaniel. Otherwise, they'll pick our pockets faster than in the temple of the benevolent Nammu Ai, and what's more, we'll probably enjoy it.
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza,
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers