Words of the Constant
The runes hath been drawn!
Tis blank as the cloudless sky.
A surface on which to inscribe ancient runes.
What wonders. Let us duel!
The conquest chest!
Can I add it to my helmet?
It burns no more.
It holds the fire of Logi within it.
Roasted entrails.
He burrows with reckless abandon.
A friend for my pocket.
Who's under there?
Have at thee, rodent!
Your mucousy defenses will not deter me, morsel!
It's best to use every part of the animal.
Something fiendish lives down there.
I don't trust you.
What horrors dwell within?
Burned to the ground!
Hark! We have found the raiders' fortress!
What strange magic is this? I cannot get through!
It doth not seem to belong here.
These trees did not grow from the earth.
Her eyes are cunning, she should not be underestimated.
Art thou plants or monkey parts? Make up thine mind!
The helm of one who knows the sea.
It still smells of monkey.
Monster casserole.
Meat of the dark beasts.
All dried up.
Still quivering.
Perhaps it crashed from the heavens.
What dost thou want, altar?
It feeds from the power of Mani!
Prepare for glorious battle!
This shall not please the gods.
Tis light as a feather on the breeze!
It is my ward, now.
Fare thee well, little moth.
Tis but a small tree.
Mani cannot see us here.
Mani's visage remains, even in the light of day.
By the gods! The water hath turned to solid glass!
Mani claims the skies!
Mani's retired to his realm for the eve.
Mani's power is on the wane.
Mani's power grows!
Tis a most divine substance.
Spirits of the woods stand no chance against me.
Tis lit by a strange power.