We risked our lives.

We fought because we believed theday of our revenge would come
just as they promised.

We soldiered on, even when our wings were so matted
with blood that we couldn't fly.

But the day of our revenge never came.
We cut down many enemies, burned down many more but that day never came.

They used us, and yet they feared us.
They feared that we might point our swords at them once we got our revenge.

So they sent us in harm's way, dished out impossible missions
and even sold us—their own comrades—to the Dark Elves like commodities.

We didn't understand it.

We fought honorably under Bakal's command.
Never in our lives did we imagine that our own master would betray us.

We know better now.

We're not going to fight for unworthy masters anymore.

We know what others call us. We don't deny what we've done.

We've left a trail of flames in our wake. Our gaze has covered the skies with smoke.
Our lips have turned the water from which we drank bloody.

And we're not going to stop.

Even if the rest of the world call us villains, malefactresses of the Dragons, we will not stop.

So if you value your life, heed my advice and leave while you can.

Leave before the fury of the erred Dragons burns down everything, with you in it.