Music:crown me king- persuing a face, a chest to grow in
this is what you get.
& behold, for its coming is told in the riots & tremors of the earth; an elder thing of nights long past, of days long dead when first the moon rose above the earth. those voices raised in supplication will be devoured first by the beast, which rises from brakish water, & those who defy it will suffer at the nine-fold tribulations that await the beast's call. all the world will be awash with lamentation but for those dark few who have prepared a place with black arts, those grim spirits who are named witchbreed. to them the rising of the beast is as the clash of lightning; it is the sound that comes after the light, the final herald of impending battle. slim are their swords, & tarnished their crowns, but they are the children of iron & shadow, the gnomon. exile their only birthright, they will pass from this place through the scalded spots, where the beast has torn the skein of time. mark them not, mankind, for their passing is to you as meaningless as any such doings of angels. hide them from your eyes with smoke & fire, for the beast has come upon you.