“Drip, drip, drip” - the horizon was alit with a fiery glow as though the whole world was on fire. The gleam was emanating from a war leader figure on a massive red horse.

“Drip, drip, drip” - the recurrent sound of blood dripping from the horse’s body and mouth summoned endless visions of the horrors and violence of war.

Behold! The Mother of War is at the doorstep. Perilous times will come: for men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud… unloving, unforgiving… brutal. You will hear of wars and rumors of wars… nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom… these are the beginning of sorrows.

With the flourish of a greatsword, the Mother of War gave the horse a touch of the spurs. The peace was about to be taken from the Earth.

Design par Great Grimoire

Mentions légales