I long for death, not because I seek peace, but because I seek the war eternal.
— Cardinal Armandus Helfire, Warhammer 40,000
Hear! Sons of Kahless. Hear! Daughters too. The blood of battle washes clean.The warrior brave and true. We fight, we love, and then we kill. Our lives burn short and bright. Then we die with honor and Join our fathers in the black fleet, Where we battle, forever battling, on Through the eternal fight.
— Klingon battle chant
You're going to special ops heaven, and it's goddamned great! A G-Man Valhalla! There's trim and guns everywhere! And we eat steak-flavored clouds and poop secrets!
— Col. Hunter Gathers to Brock Samson, The Venture Brothers
"Never had such a war been fought. Never again would it be possible. It was if the gods had looked down on this puny creature man, with his war-like dreams of glory, his monstrous proud machines, and said: go to it! If that's what you want, then here's your chance to show what you can do (perhaps your last chance before you have so much power that there can be no glory in it's use). For once let brazen knights, pennants raised and flying in the desert sunlight, spur their armored steeds across the blazing sands. Let Greek and Trojan pause in frozen battle to stare in awe and see themselves surpassed in spectacle for song and story...
And so the gods picked man up, with all his treasured playthings — his trucks, his tanks, his armored cars, his guns, his planes, his mountains of bombs and shells — and set him down in a barren land where he could do little harm to anyone or anything else and turned him loose in the desert sun. It was an alien land to these men of bronze and steel — of brazen spirit and iron machines — but a land well chosen to absorb their worst...
There was of course another view. The sand that covered every face, and sought to wedge its particles under the protective eyeglasses; the oppressive daytime heat that was everywhere... These — and the same shells as before, blasting, maiming still...
But there is no war without the dead. And if dead is dead, no matter how, yet to survivors years later and to us looking through the reverse cap of history, they seemed somehow to die in style. And if it seemed otherwise to the dead themselves, no one has yet found a way to survey the dead for an opinion."
And so the gods picked man up, with all his treasured playthings — his trucks, his tanks, his armored cars, his guns, his planes, his mountains of bombs and shells — and set him down in a barren land where he could do little harm to anyone or anything else and turned him loose in the desert sun. It was an alien land to these men of bronze and steel — of brazen spirit and iron machines — but a land well chosen to absorb their worst...
There was of course another view. The sand that covered every face, and sought to wedge its particles under the protective eyeglasses; the oppressive daytime heat that was everywhere... These — and the same shells as before, blasting, maiming still...
But there is no war without the dead. And if dead is dead, no matter how, yet to survivors years later and to us looking through the reverse cap of history, they seemed somehow to die in style. And if it seemed otherwise to the dead themselves, no one has yet found a way to survey the dead for an opinion."
—from the rulebook of Knights of the Desert: The North African Campaign of 1941-43 (1983), published by Strategic Simulations, Inc.
One day we'll all be together
One day we'll finally know why
In the place where crosses are cross-hairs
And bullets go when they die...
There we will all be so happy
There we will finally know bliss
All gathered down by the river
You can aim and you'll never miss!
GUN HEAVEN
Everyone gets one!
GUN HEAVEN
Everyone there!
GUN HEAVEN
Everyone has fun!
GUN HEAVEN
Nobody's scared...
One day we'll finally know why
In the place where crosses are cross-hairs
And bullets go when they die...
There we will all be so happy
There we will finally know bliss
All gathered down by the river
You can aim and you'll never miss!
GUN HEAVEN
Everyone gets one!
GUN HEAVEN
Everyone there!
GUN HEAVEN
Everyone has fun!
GUN HEAVEN
Nobody's scared...
—"Gun Heaven"
by Tony Perkins a/k/a Martin Luther Lennon
by Tony Perkins a/k/a Martin Luther Lennon"Victory, or Sovngarde!"
—Battle Cry of the Nords, The Elder Scrolls
Beyond the bridge, a great stone longhouse rose up before me, so tall as to nearly touch the clouds. Though it took all my strength, I pushed open the towering oaken door and beheld the torch-lit feast hall.
Here were assembled the greatest heroes of the Nords, all drinking mead poured from great kegs and singing battle-songs. Suckling pigs turned on a long iron spit over a roaring fire. My mouth watered at the smell of roast meat, and my heart was glad to hear the songs of old.
"Come forth!" cried out a hoary man who sat upon a high wooden chair. This I knew to be Ysgramor, father of Skyrim and the Nords. I approached and knelt before him.
"You find yourself in Sovngarde, hall of the honored dead. Now, what would you have of me, son of the north?" he bellowed.
"I seek counsel," said I, "for tomorrow we fight a desperate battle and my heart is full of fear."
Ysgramor raised his tankard to his lips and drank until the cup was empty. Then he spoke once more.
"Remember this always, son of the north - a Nord is judged not by the manner in which he lived, but the manner in which he died."
With that, he cast aside his flagon, raised his fist in the air and roared a great cheer. The other heroes rose to their feet and cheered in answer.
The sound still rang in my ears when I awoke. I gathered my men and told them of my vision. The words seemed to fill their hearts with courage.
The horns are blowing, and the banners are raised. The time has come to muster. May Talos grant us victory this day, and if I am found worthy, may I once again look upon that great feast hall.
Here were assembled the greatest heroes of the Nords, all drinking mead poured from great kegs and singing battle-songs. Suckling pigs turned on a long iron spit over a roaring fire. My mouth watered at the smell of roast meat, and my heart was glad to hear the songs of old.
"Come forth!" cried out a hoary man who sat upon a high wooden chair. This I knew to be Ysgramor, father of Skyrim and the Nords. I approached and knelt before him.
"You find yourself in Sovngarde, hall of the honored dead. Now, what would you have of me, son of the north?" he bellowed.
"I seek counsel," said I, "for tomorrow we fight a desperate battle and my heart is full of fear."
Ysgramor raised his tankard to his lips and drank until the cup was empty. Then he spoke once more.
"Remember this always, son of the north - a Nord is judged not by the manner in which he lived, but the manner in which he died."
With that, he cast aside his flagon, raised his fist in the air and roared a great cheer. The other heroes rose to their feet and cheered in answer.
The sound still rang in my ears when I awoke. I gathered my men and told them of my vision. The words seemed to fill their hearts with courage.
The horns are blowing, and the banners are raised. The time has come to muster. May Talos grant us victory this day, and if I am found worthy, may I once again look upon that great feast hall.
—A Dream of Sovngarde, The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
"Stretched before me stood an army, the like of which I had never seen. Rank after rank of dead souls stood at attention — each soldier, a goblinoid that had died in loyal service to our people ... I realized this was my eternal reward— to serve in the great army of ancestors in otherworldly battles that mortals could scarcely comprehend."
"I had always imagined the afterlife would be extravagant and beautiful—a realm all my own where I could dote and be doted on. Imagine my surprise when I arrived in a necrotic wasteland more barren than Outland and more hostile than the crushing depths... Imagine my surprise when I liked it. This fight for dominance is more exhilarating than any luxuries could ever be."
—Baroness Vashj, World of Warcraft Shadowlands
If you are ruthless in battle so true
If chosen in death there is room for you too
By an army of Valkyries taken away
To the Hall of the Fallen
A feast awaits!
If chosen in death there is room for you too
By an army of Valkyries taken away
To the Hall of the Fallen
A feast awaits!
—Brothers of Metal, "The Mead Song"
Asterius: You have returned to my chamber. I trust you know by now what this means.
Zagreus: That I've challenged you to a battle for pride and glory because that's apparently all there is to do around here?
Asterius: That... *snort* Yes. That is essentially correct. Prepare.
Zagreus: That I've challenged you to a battle for pride and glory because that's apparently all there is to do around here?
Asterius: That... *snort* Yes. That is essentially correct. Prepare.
