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Message: <blockquote data-quote="DungeonKeeperUK" data-source="post: 634433" data-attributes="member: 689">[SCENE: The fighter of the group lies dying at the feet of the cleric who used his last remaining spells in the previous battle, no healing is available for the poor fighter]BERT (Cleric) - "Never, never, before the gods, have I thought of you but as the single, bright, pure, blessed recollection of my boyhood and my youth. Never have I from the first, and never shall I to the last, regard your part in my life, but as something sacred, never to be lightly thought of, never to be esteemed enough, never, until death, to be forgotten." NORMAN (Fighter) - "Something will come of this, I knows it. I hope it mayn't be human gore and the death of you my closets and most trusted of friends while I slip this mortal coil and leave you alone in these dungeons." BERT (Cleric) - "All is going on as it was wont. The waves are hoarse with repetition of their mystery; the dust lies piled upon the shore; the sea-birds soar and hover; the winds and clouds go forth upon their trackless flight; the white arms beckon, in the moonlight, to the invisible country far away. You my friend shall leave this earth and all that have loved you, we shall go on but with a hole in our hearts for ever" HAROLD (Rogue) - "Erm ..... are you guys funny or something, I'm off down the pub to drink some ale and pull some birds....." Next in the style of Jerry Springer</blockquote>