text_original: Blood flows, the aliment of new madness. The wounded are carried into houses of the Rue Cerisaie; the dying leave their last mandate not to yield till the accursed Stronghold fall. And yet, alas, how fall? The walls are so thick!
text_transcription: BLOOD FLOWS THE AILMENT OF NEW MADNESS THE WOUNDED ARE CARRIED INTO HOUSES OF THE RUE SA REZOOD THE DYING LEAVE THEIR LAST MANDATE NOT TO YIELD TILL THE ACCURSED STRONGHOLD FALLS AND YET ALAS HOW FALL THE WALLS ARE SO THICK
phonemes: blˈʌd flˈoʊz, ðɪ ˈɑːlimənt ʌv nˈuː mˈædnəs. ðə wˈuːndᵻd ɑːɹ kˈæɹid ˌɪntʊ hˈaʊzᵻz ʌvðə ɹˈuː sˈɛɹɪsˌeɪə; ðə dˈaɪɪŋ lˈiːv ðɛɹ lˈæst mˈændeɪt nˌɑːt tə jˈiːld tˈɪl ðɪ ɐkˈɜːsᵻd stɹˈɔŋhoʊld fˈɔːl. ænd jˈɛt, ɐlˈæs, hˌaʊ fˈɔːl? ðə wˈɔːlz ɑːɹ sˌoʊ θˈɪk!