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"In that dread
desert, beneath the moons' pale gaze, the dead
men walk. They haunt the dunes in that
breathless, windless night. They brandish their
weapons in mocking challenge to all life,and,
sometimes, in ghastly dry voices, like the
rustling of sere leaves, they whisper the one
word they remember from life, the name of their
ancient, dark master. They wisper the name Nagash"
From The Book Of The
Dead,
By Abdul ben Raschid,
Translated from the Arabic
by Heinrich Kemmler.
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