Somewhere in Hekinoe there is a mountain, mighty and black, its peak piercing the sky like a titan's upraised blade. Storms scorch this peak as bleak, bruise colored clouds swirl around it in a vortex of lightning and winds. Atop this peak is a throne, and that throne is built upon the accumulated knowledge of a lost age of Hekinoe's past. The seat of this throne is a tome so weighty that it possesses the knowledge to sear the sky to ash. The armrests are bound scrolls that could be wielded as talismans to drain the seas and shatter the earth. The head rest is a collection of bound maps of ancient Kaleshmar. The mountain rumbles as the ancient engine within it stirs as the creature brooding upon this throne shifts upon its seat and destroys six thousand years of knowledge as a tome beneath its foot breaks apart and is lashed into nothingness by the wind. Ruling from this throne is a bearded king whose eyes gleam with madness, tendrils of sorcerous might curl from the embers of power that are its eyes. Hail and rain slap against its flesh and its dirty ruined robes or torn and tattered by the wind. It does not blink or acknowledge the storm that surrounds it, for it is the eye of the storm and the storm is the turmoil within its mind. This king of storms and dusty knowledge sits upon its throne and gazes into the distance with a vacant stare, unmoved by its surroundings.
At the foot of this mountain is a small figure, this figure is a creature known as D'alton and he knows fear.
grins like a fool
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed that.