[The of Logres:] It was a time of change. The descendants of the Atlantean mages had before the New Praesidium, and the were baying at the Empire's door. An oppressive new faith was encroaching from the east, and the sylvan had locked tight the gates of his arboreal realm. And so it was towards the end of the Age of Mystery, the last of Albion's Dragon Lords did gather for what would be their battle...
[The War-song of the Dragon rend the sky, Albion our gleaming prize, Sentinels of and sea, guardians of destiny. (Prowling amongst the pecseatan; Draconis Bipedes, swift and beast of battle!)
Dragon King's Vow:] (Dragon-Runes by the firey tongues of the IX Legio Draconis into the primordial stone of the Logres Drachenstahl Cromlech): The foes of this sceptred isle shall be back into the sea! An sworn in battle, a vow blessed by steel, I swear by the dragon's blood in my veins... and the dragon's that pumps it!
War-song of the Dragon Lords:] Dragonfyre in the fray, faith and shall win the day, A god to serf and king alike, the Hammer strikes! (Devouring the infidel outlanders; Draconis Nematoda, great worm of war!)
Dragon King's Vow:] To eternal... this world shall be our empire! Dragon Imperium, throne of the Ancient Gods, the axiom, Wyruld-Cyninga! It is time! We shall rule, and upon our dominion the sun never set!
[12 October: I must commit this to the pages of my journal, while it is vivid in my recollection... not that such a macabre could possibly soon be blissfully forgotten. before dawn,