MORTAL SHELL - HARROS | GRITTY - TIRED - ANGRY - WEATHERED - WARRIOR
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EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (England - South East - Oxford, Sussex) British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
I was given a choice to kneel before the executioner's axe with, and it's your choice. For years, I wore her situation, repeated all the O's. I always knew one day, no matter how many owners were bestowed upon me, I would escape. When the orders came, I felt pride swell in my chest. Despite my longings, I knew way were superior to these pathetic creatures. These swine rutted within grand, filthy temples more misguided than these mad men decorated with bones and might brigands pointed us towards the temple son by the devout. Their allegiances lie to those who are for tar or spirits. They entertain themselves with drunken antics or violent halt ese. They know better than to attack us, but they followed us at a distance, hoping for straps. They were pathetic along, squandering their time to drink moonshine and fight over scraps in offering of a bag of tar guarded me there quick attention. But I sense betrayal in their eyes. Sign up one down and the other told me all he knew as I turned to walk away once struck my armour with a rock with a mad I could just assume cut them down and take a ****. I looked into the hungry eyes and warned them as much. The brigands fell upon us with crude knives, drilling blood. I stumbled into a coven deep within. A priest welcomed me. Clutching the tablet. He promised I would be reborn within the shadow of the Revered. But he could do nothing for my injuries. He assured me deeper into the labyrinth. It must have been dug by 1000 hands. I know what much of what he said until he called my name smiling. He forgave me for the crime I would soon commit. It was all its stian stone. He assured me these were the ravings of a madman. The madman that would come to realise was not burdened with delusions but truth. Yet the weary corrupts honest words into lies. I took him for a spy and cut him down. How else could he know so much about me? He has condemned himself with each utterance. First I heard the squeals as from 100 mouths. Then I saw her. The revered arriving massive Seenu as if all at once she was splitting apart and coalescing salvation Toe, Look upon her deliverance. I note losing my strength. I want to go look away. And yet she was all I wanted to see. My watch. There's something swam beneath her belly, her flesh stuffed from the bone and poured forth like mud, drowning the worshippers in a slurry of blood and earth. Birth and death were indistinguishable. I should leave, find safety. But I dragged myself closer as the prayers of the devolved fuelled my ears. I couldn't lift my sword. I couldn't kill mother and child. We had vowed to slee this force God. Yet this promise was no more than a course pledge. What difference does it make? Which must reserve Wei will serve all the same. Scythe. Newborn crawled from the earth's viscera guard sallow skin creature, not entirely inhuman, attends drastic uselessly at her, deflated for her limbs arrived in coiled around it, perhaps an embrace