By the count of days, an age came and went;
lives made and spent utterly in shadow of death.
Still, the Spawn never tired, never wept,
and so knew all—man and dwarf and elf alike—
that victory alone might live in the covenant
of their people, their lives, and their blood.
Thus joined, no defeat could sunder spirits unbent,
yet still could no blade the Archdemon fell.
Threnodies, 9:16