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A fanciful retelling of the Oath Of The Screaming, the symbolic coronation of the New Kingdoms of Man:

“We, the circled where no man be a prominent, or an isthmus, we, the twelve new-born, we, the screaming, we pledge that we have spoken with the demon-kings here today and they have found us wanting; and from their mouths we emerge sticky with red and reborn to you. We are not servants, but nor are we Gods; we are like the trumpet, or the harp, or the red tongue sticky. I look at my brother’s heads not flattened by my sword or bow but flattened so that this crown may rest upon his head, as I feel it rest upon mine. May the reign of Man begin here, and may the mias-touched, the brutes, the haired and those from beyond the Waistlands heed us. This mountain is tall, though it may be deep as we are reborn. We the screaming promise to you all; we scream for your sons, and your son’s sons, and their children, and all the childen ever born to a Man. Let the rings we place today be our ring, and our bind. Long live Man, and long may we be remembered.”