The approaching roaring of thunder, all who hear it should be wary. It is the sound of impending doom for all who fall short of the standard. Such foreboding is carried on the winds of change, even if nature it self has to strike like a scripted catastrophe. They speak of the four, but they know not the tale. For the appearance of the riders portends the end of more than just the world, they mark the beginning of victory. Listen to this tale, though it is admittedly not for the feint of heart. Find out why calamity inches ever closer for the shamelessly unholy, while the righteous should rejoice all the more.
Swift is the stride that will end mankind. Just as swift will be the sweeping movement of blades of righteousness, cutting a swath through mountains of the ever unwary. Perhaps thou would bemoan such spilling of blood and show disdain for the work that they do. But in truth, that would only mean that thy unholy sight has fallen upon the very words that spell thy doom. How the cavalry has arrived, and not a moment too soon.
If the horse that you see is white, than your end has been planned well in advance. If the red horse follows, prepare to have your own wits used against you. If you happen to see a great black steed in the style of the others, than you will be cured of your greed. If for some unfortunate reason you see the silver horse, then your end is nigh. In concert they work, but for a very specific cause. To correct the great injustice that was born of a perverse world's unholy consensus. A world run by the unjust is quite obviously no world at all.
When their requiem begins, the songs they will sing. Of life and of death, perhaps everything in between. It will be a sorrowful tone be certain. But in a world that is perverse enough to mourn the death of evil, such musicianship may be precisely what the doctor ordered. How evil rises to stake its claim, and the horsemen mow them down just as quickly as they rise.
The world will come to obey its master, the father of the fearsome four. The fact that the horsemen are in the throes of their world-ending campaign means that the time for negotiation has long since past. The cries that once fell on deaf ears are now the war cries of the heroes of eternity. How terrifying it must be for mortal minds to fathom, the notion of fighting against a foe daunting enough to literally be called eternity itself. They who fear, more than anything, the end of the fleeting and pitiable lifespan of a mere mortal.
The utterings of the cowardly shall not be the focus of this requiem. Nay, we shall strive to set the tone by riding full stride towards destiny, whatever the consequence. After hearing the impending doom of rolling thunder approaching, the word shall watch the dreaded horsemen strike as lighting would at all who dare oppose the will that they enforce. Whatever yonder rodents speak, it is of no consequence in the end. All that matters is that evil has lost, and that the riders serve as evidence.
