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And so upon his pyre burned the Doom of Ulmarah, and the warrior bands stood as ragged bandits, in zigzag lines of mourning. With the dawn the flat-faced Zhell would come, chackling and howling, oozing mirth and tricks, and find the shade of the Doom departed and the Taungs unprotected.
And so with the dawn would our woe be revealed. Our once-bright armaments would become stacked grave goods, trophies for the Zhell children. Our flesh would become smoke given to uncaring gods and the sky would forget our names.
With death upon him Rexutu the Unconquerable prepared to be stripped of all by his enemy, but vowed that his honor would be last to be torn away.
And so the Unconquerable gathered his kinsmen and his oath girdlings alike. They polished their fearsome helms, that they might flash even in the weak sun of Notron. They rewrapped the hilts of their weapons and pounded straight the shafts, that they might slake their thirst in Zhell ichor a final time.
Assembled they ascended, in taut Taung lines, to the high place where the Reaver had staked his standard before it was cast down into the mire. They gazed out over the gathering places and walkings of Great Zhell where they scaled peak and cradled valley, the lines of lights ordering the night. They unfurled the Taung banner, reversed, a reckless thing snapping in the dark, awaiting Zhell eyes. And they performed ceremonies of leave-taking, for now they had died to the world and must be remade among the stars.
When the dawn came the Zhell awakened and saw the Taungs upon the high place and were afraid, for the morning light caught the glint of helms and weapons and created phantom warriors, made of dazzle and distance. But the cleverest of them were not deceived, and saw how few we were.
And so they assembled without haste, merry with mockery, and prepared to march. And in the high place we awaited death.
But then came a shaking of the ground, and the sun's wan light was eclipsed by a bright and terrible fire that exploded from the rock. The patterns of Great Zhell shivered and broke. And after this came darkness, as the very air turned to black ash. The Zhell fell on their faces in terror, and from the high place we ran in haste to meet them, and we were cloaked in shadow.
The Maker had come to unmake, and the Taungs would be His instruments.
-Excerpt from Dha Werda Verda, ninth chapter.