History Quotes / TheLegionsOfHell

25th Jul '16 12:04:41 AM AnotherEpicFail
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->We see the hordes of perdition. The stamping of iron boot and cloven foot. They march. They march out of the City of Dis. They march out of Pandemonium. They march out of Sheol. We see the myrmidons, the branded vagabonds, the burning banners, the inured, the reclaimers, and all the rest of the hellspawn. It seems impossible that reality has undone so many.

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->We see the hordes of perdition. The stamping of iron boot and cloven foot. They march. They march out of the City of Dis. They march out of Pandemonium. They march out of Sheol. We see the myrmidons, the branded vagabonds, the burning banners, the inured, the reclaimers, and all the rest of the hellspawn. It seems impossible that reality has undone so many.Above the the demonic rank and file are the officers of Hell's armies. We see [[BiblicalBadGuy the Iscariot]], the Lustrehunter, the Ach-Myrmidon, [[HistoricalDomainCharacter Cassius, and Brutus]]. Leaders of demons and still they are slaves to the churning, infernal machine, and their masters. [[WoobieDestroyerOfWorlds They keen their grief with so much force]]. Mercy and justice disdain them.
->The armies of Hell march, sweetling, though they can no longer remember why.
25th Jul '16 12:02:54 AM AnotherEpicFail
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We see the hordes of perdition. The stamping of iron boot and cloven foot. They march. They march out of the City of Dis. They march out of Pandemonium. They march out of Sheol. We see the myrmidons, the branded vagabonds, the burning banners, the inured, the reclaimers, and all the rest of the hellspawn. It seems impossible that reality has undone so many.

to:

We ->We see the hordes of perdition. The stamping of iron boot and cloven foot. They march. They march out of the City of Dis. They march out of Pandemonium. They march out of Sheol. We see the myrmidons, the branded vagabonds, the burning banners, the inured, the reclaimers, and all the rest of the hellspawn. It seems impossible that reality has undone so many.
25th Jul '16 12:02:36 AM AnotherEpicFail
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We see the hordes of perdition. The stamping of iron boot and cloven foot. They march. They march out of the City of Dis. They march out of Pandemonium. They march out of Sheol. We see the myrmidons, the branded vagabonds, the burning banners, the inured, the reclaimers, and all the rest of the hellspawn. It seems impossible that reality has undone so many.
-->--'''The Buzzing,''' ''VideoGame/TheSecretWorld''
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28th Jul '12 3:57:37 AM FELH2
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-> And behold, a Daemon Lord comes in the full panoply of battle. At his passing the trees gibber their rage and the stones shout their hate to an uncaring sky. He hunts the enemies of his Master, for meat is mortal flesh and his wine mortal souls.

-> At his left hand moans a Daemon bound in the shape of an axe. Its songs of blood and hatred echo forth and fill the the sky with a sound to stir the dead. At his right hand stand lesser Daemons, hunters all, straining at the leashes of the Hounds. They chomp upon the shades and spirits they have harried, throwing morsels of innocence to each other, so that all may sample the sweetest meats.

-> Behind him wait the legions of his master, arrayed in armor fluted and chased with gold, brighter than the sun and darker than midnight. Each holds and shrieking sword, each screams in disharmony with his blade, each joins the chorus of Chaos, a promise of worse than death for those who hear it. Beneath their feet, the earth writhes at their touch, as if seeking escape their presence.

-> Behold, a Daemon Lord comes and we are all doomed...
-->-- '''The Liber Chaotica''', ''{{Warhammer 40000}}''

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-> And behold, a Daemon Lord comes in the full panoply of battle. At his passing the trees gibber their rage and the stones shout their hate to an uncaring sky. He hunts the enemies of his Master, for meat is mortal flesh and his wine mortal souls.

souls.

-> At his left hand moans a Daemon bound in the shape of an axe. Its songs of blood and hatred echo forth and fill the the sky with a sound to stir the dead. At his right hand stand lesser Daemons, hunters all, straining at the leashes of the Hounds. They chomp upon the shades and spirits they have harried, throwing morsels of innocence to each other, so that all may sample the sweetest meats.

meats.

-> Behind him wait the legions of his master, arrayed in armor fluted and chased with gold, brighter than the sun and darker than midnight. Each holds and shrieking sword, each screams in disharmony with his blade, each joins the chorus of Chaos, a promise of worse than death for those who hear it. Beneath their feet, the earth writhes at their touch, as if seeking escape their presence.

presence.

-> Behold, a Daemon Lord comes and we are all doomed...
doomed...
-->-- '''The Liber Chaotica''', ''{{Warhammer ''TabletopGame/{{Warhammer 40000}}''

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-->-- '''Inquisitor Lichenstein''', ''{{Warhammer 40000}}''

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-->-- '''Inquisitor Lichenstein''', ''{{Warhammer 40000}}'' ''TabletopGame/{{Warhammer 40000}}''



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