A Wandsman In the Court of the Hanged King
“Where aphotic sea does deny,
Reflections of a xanthous sky.
And black stars reign without ascent,
Echoes of what was never meant.
A city built in unknown times,
Upon the bones of countless crimes.
Stranger yet is found within,
The chaos court of strife and sin.
The mad dance here without control,
As all must play their given role.
For those beyond our mortal ken,
We die and live, and die again.
Our Lord does writhe atop his throne,
Before his glory, we atone,
With this, our blood, it is the Hanged King's,
So shall we suffocate upon his puppet-strings.”
Before you continue further on, dearest reader, you must know that the things you are about to interpret are a little… disturbing. This is your only warning, and if you decide henceforth into diving within this adventure, you must know these things before you quite modestly do so. Good luck my faithful companion, and may you be withheld to your utmost highest discomfort level.
- The Author