With the sliver of a shudder, the one, buried in the minotaur hide, awakened. [color=ed1c24]"For many turned leaves, he struggled against the eldritch bonds but remained obliged, thanks to his tormentor…"[/color] The druid's eyes convalesced with a fiery pause, attempting to burn away the residue of an inner homunculus, savory of a solstice, both battered and bated. The furry brows enthusiastically engaged the playful inquiry of the half-orc, sincerely suffocating and obfuscating a cryptic monologue as the riddled spine melted into a much betrothed respite. [color=ed1c24]“Saldrinar, a mewling meat wizard from the South. Each day, another infernal sigil would be triggered, fastening him to a brief moment of agonizing lucidity before the mind would lapse back into that timeless sleep. I suspect that one can not continue to storm a castle always knowing that their time is nigh. However, this mouth will try to implore, in this brief interlude, a manifest to my last thought, as like runes upon the scales of my corpse.”[/color] Torus began to gawk exquisitely past the barbarian, hoping he would hear the juxtaposed words of Westgate's first ruler, Kisonraathiisar, as the soliloquy trekked, with a staff of its own, the mountainous distance towards the enthused Davis and his Hin audience. [color=ed1c24]“While her two-legged ants swarmed across her kingdom and slaughtered the tribes of troubled dragonkin that she had carefully nurtured into stewards of this demesne, I see Null’s dull claws inexorably crushing the future that she had hoped to create. For millennia, their kind had once labored to build kingdoms that might survive the King-Killer’s baleful eye. But just as I sit upon the cusp of escaping a parallel curse, his plans were laid low by a scion of those arrogant Netherese fools. The sorceress cared not for the work of the ages; she greedily sought only to steal what he could not build and claim what was not his to own.”[/color] [color=ed1c24]“Ironic.”[/color] The pirate’s voice was not a boisterous whisper, but plain all the same. [color=ed1c24]“Like these zealots of Tiamat.”[/color] [color=ed1c24]“In the desperate hope that another of Asgorath’s children might not chance upon his remains and seek what I have already found. Listen, I now reveal the key to a different hoard.”[/color] Annoyed by the muddy shackles, the murmurs flattered simplicity as the one sided diatribe droned on. [color=ed1c24]“The hills of the lost gods were never what they seem. Each of the seven rings of standing stones dates back to the last days of the reign of dragons, when the elder wyrms sought to reverse what the elves had wrought. Bahamut’s ancestors tried to focus the Weave into a weapon of unparalleled might that could shatter the Drifting Stars into clouds of rubble in the heavens above. But they scored only a glancing blow on the moon that circles our world, leaving only a string of tears and an inland sea to mark their failure.”[/color] The filthy yokes tethering the hands of the impetuous sailor began to crumble, like sand. [color=ed1c24]“Now reason is once again undone by their rage, and all which has been wrought crumbles slowly into dust, sifting freedom.”[/color] [Hider=Mechanics] Liberated under the guise of depression, [i]you-know-who[/i] is using the failed tale of Kisonraathiisar, as a twisted allegory for both humans and herself. [/Hider] [@Hekazu][@The Harbinger of Ferocity][@Ryonara][@Lucius Cypher]