The smell of death surrounds you, can you not feel its presence?

The dance of death is a celebration of life to those who know the right steps.

Better that we die fighting than outraged and dishonored. Better to die than to live in Slavery.


As you walk down the narrow passage engulfed in the faint light of the dimming torches you can hear the screams of pain and anguish around you. The smell of rotting flesh marks your way along the corridor. You stop for a brief rest as you come upon your destination... The shadows seem to move before you, their shapelessness frightens you. You wonder if the immortal Vampyres will try to quench thy thirst upon you, perhaps the Garou will tear you to shreds and you'll never be the wiser........ Perhaps an Assassins blade is your fate..........

Come and talk with me of your adventures, and I will share mine with you. And we shall drink and praise the gods that allow are lives, the ones that have kept us alive in our dark times. Maybe we can forget are troubles in meat and ale for a while before the haunting reality comes back to us.. So come sit down, have a drink or two. I am Known as Elfric Pendragon, perhaps someday we shall meet. But until then remember this, Ast tasarak shirak tilven queshu shire relnor solace lauranthalasa.....

Links to other sites on the Web

I'm found here often.....

One of my few Mortal friends homepge.....

A little about the history of Mages....

A bite about the Vampires.....

The last words of one of my greatest role models...

A page about C Programming...

A page about the creator of this page...

The freedom of flight
To become one with the dragon, first you must learn to respect and honor him or you shall never ride him.
Nemo me impune lacessit...

You leave the spot as solemnly as you approached it. The dying embers of the torches are your last memory.

When the sun falls beneath,
The sky as dark as death.
The sword of peace within its sheath,
Its blade is crimson red.
Now you've fallen under,
The end is nearly Nigh.
Your heart uttered its last blur,
The angels sing on high.

This many souls hast come to this place.

Tell me of thy self

See what the other travellers have said

Ž© 1996 I can be contacted here,
or using ICQ I can be contacted with the number 872696



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