• And so, on we marched.
    Across the bloody feilds,
    that have seen 1000 years ov brutal war.

    The black souls ov our kin,
    battle hardened, imperviable.
    None can withstand our wrath.

    Today is the day we take the victory,
    we will rise against the holy ones,
    Slaying the prophets, hanging the preists.

    Blazing arrows, storming through the clouds.
    Carressing the fiery crimson skies.
    Falling fast, and swiftly.

    We raise our sheilds,
    the arrows crumble againts our steel skin.
    None ov us shall fall.

    We reach the shimmering white gates.
    They stand tall, though nothing is stronger than death.
    We tear the down, as if they had never existed.

    Our black plague storms the castle walls.
    Our weapons unsheashed,
    ready to stike down the foe.

    As we walk through the hallways,
    we massacre every living soul in our path ov destruction.
    We cannot die, as we are already dead.

    We, the dead, are nothing but moving carcass's.
    Swaying and dancing to the rhythm ov death.
    Our pale face's and white eyes penetrate all.

    The throne room opens,
    we crawl into the unstained room.
    Soon it shall be red, not white.

    As i walk towards the holy one,
    I grab my blade, swing it about.
    I start going up the stairs.

    I stand before him,
    i can feel hatred pouring out ov my pours.
    His eye's are growing dimmer..

    Grabbing his throat, i thrust my sword through his heart.
    Blood poors out unto the floor.
    Finally, the vampiric race has taken the last standing holy shrine.

    Nothing can stop our domination,
    the earth will grow black,
    the sun shall be doused in the waves of our darkness.

    Destruction is imminant.
    All shall die,
    and join the ranks of the undead.