DOTLAN EveMaps

When the first saint dies everyone sings a mournful dirge of sorrow and tears.
But their song of suffering has only just begun.

When the saints die, we are their requiem. We are the apocalypse and it's heralds.
In our right hand we hold conquest and war.
In our left famine and death.

Before us stand our armies to whom we bestow the right to dispense our power at will.
Our foes do not fall before us in battle, but as they flee in terror.

If you are foe flee. Flee before the requiem as its terror rolls across the land. If you are our ally, become a dispenser of this power, equals with those who serve us in all enterprizes, for it is our allies who will reap the fields watered with the blood of our foes.


We are the Requiem. The Requiem of Saints. The death song of the protectors of our foes.

Fear us.

Join us.

Or perish before us.