Geldazar

The Oilstone mountains were home for a short time. Six months had past since Geldazar bid farewell to his friends and went up into their rarefied heights. Unoccupied caves were hard to come by in the area, but after searching for days he found a cold damp hole in the bottom of a crumbling cliff. More of an overhang than a cave, it suited his purposes. Alone, inside, he waited.


A healed world without wounds, iron rusts while hearts grow, golden red the sun blinks no eyes, darkness or light have no end here

Violent gifts from the Gods are given to them, when they tremble at the foot of the soft white calf, beckon forth the laughter when shown, it bleeds as they do and dies just the same

Do not deny them this, they gave it as a gift and asked nothing, they gave you salt they gave you sugar, fickle whims try to guide you to drink, but only the lion will drink such blood here.

Foreign shores will bear you now, stand up and see the land of the Gods, breathe the air and your heart moves the ground below, this is where you will make them notice, in this here, the divine mirror