Heart of the Thief: Song of Dry Death

 
Song of Dry Death (A Haliurunnae Prayer)

Dry death is a waste

A crumbling of flesh and water

A mist of sand upon the desert floor.

Our ancestors gave their lives

So that you could walk and breath

And taste the dust in the breeze.

You must die a blood death,

Your life must lie in puddles

Coloring the knife of your enemy.

You and he must trade blood,

For without a sacrifice

You shall never walk the Halls of your Fathers.

Suffer not the witch, purveyor of evil,

Kill the urbanite, softened by comfort,

Ignore the Northron if he bring no weapon of war.