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"Dangling far above one's head
Spewing venom of bitter dread
Crawling forth from shaded womb
Making nest in ancient tombs
With fangs but six inches long
Consuming blood of those thought strong
Entangled now by thicken web
Your corpse shall adorn their bed
For where there is one, a hundred be
Lurking in the shadows, none can see
They answer only to Sithis call
Be it for one; or for them all."
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