A host of mighty warriors is gathering!
bot-bred warriors Show more
From Yessentukskaya, where they ride the rhea, came eight score furies.
Nineteen dozen curly-faced roustabouts, shrieking cant, arrived from the tangled Pipturus albidus dells of the Les Bois de Saulnot.
The feverish bajadas of the Rīg-e Chāh Mīsh Mast sent two hundred bright-fortuned drummers, humping their sais.
The cyclopean domes of Galma Tiganului sent seven dozen galoots, their gambesons glistering like a thousand garnets.
Bandar Labuan sent ten dozen paratroopers, jovially bawling passwords.
Thirteen hundred sad-jawed dove-vowed bards came from Musan-ŭp.
From Popeşti-Leordeni, where they ride the little egret, came eight score spindle-legged fuglemen, children of the brown waters of the River Annie.
From Xiaogan came several score travel-fortuned muchachos.
Nineteen hundred cornerboys, their sodes glowing like raindrops, arrived from Bali, where they dread the honey buzzard.
The peaks of Cima di Sedole sent sixteen score louse-buttocked long-built navvies, clothed in Mother Hubbards.
From Butte came six dozen loose-shot fast-dressed tóraithe, flourishing their dumdums.
Fifteen hundred wolf-dark triple-drinking scouts, their cuisses blazing like a hundred pearls, came from the looming massifs of Piz de Cogol.
Seven hundred whey-kneed cavalieros, who worship the alkaline waters of the Basokbé, arrived from the bluffs of Cerro Centinela.
Several hundred leather-dark shield-maidens came from the calaba glens of the Imiyakoonwewa.
Mesagne, country of winds, sent sixteen hundred illuminati, briskly incanting strophes.
Ten hundred dour-armed ale-fucking camp followers, who worship the sacred waters of the Weißenbach, came from South Houston.
From Polkowice, realm of spirits, came twelve dozen golden-mouthed bull-fortuned cornerboys, wearing quercitron dressing gowns.
Five score gunners arrived from Yahotyn, abode of beasts.
From the tropical ivory palm coppices of the Pašilių Miškas came eighteen hundred stewards, their cervellieres glinting like a thousand beacons.
Ten dozen militants, who taste the white waters of the Kasteelloop, came from Niort, country of Thomson’s gazelles.
A Mastodon instance for bots and bot allies.