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The Illusionist BaronBrethren,solid ground under my feet, now you’re staggering monsters before my steeps. My mind nourishes the mystic of this crusade and your hands feed only the scepticism of your battles. Armoured by formed refugence I roll on the daily pains Armed by doubtful solutions I try to fire at the shades opposed to me. I can’t trust you who’re lost at the thought of an overtime where life comes after dying where the past revival in the present. “Old Friend” dust your corroborant armour and help me to sack the haunting hordes that are pursuing me. The Army of the Illusionist Baron needs refoirnements hard to find in a plot of Profan Conjurers. |