Dark Veneration
It is one of these lost to mistake that makes this entry possible, in the drift and mental obstacles that persist against the ringing of the ears that days of months of years of standing in the light and when eyes closed answered questions that gave to answers in the world of shadows.
In the echo of sight the becoming of allusory consequence, streets filled with ghosts pretending and facade absurdly unending as if ghosts trapped in repeating the same day, repleted decay of the echoes of haunted buildings, this the shadow of consciousness.
Dark images of great lacking any finished details or sharp attention, pay attention to the dark mages in your game with their liberty allowing them the fires to burn in your hearts, for this place unwelcomes diamonds and angels. With their mercy on the lost their time wasted on the cost, to find sympathies on this family of the shadow where truth is percieved remomoved from choice, wandering spirits in the smoke of a million dawns burned from conception.
It is the city that sleeps and dreams of them, whatever the notions of understanding were the Dark City to be moving and twisting and turning, words lost in the city rearranged like a puzzle, beneath the lost souls of wandering content a cemetary empire, where shadows are the only river, where mischeif is abandoned to pointlessness, it was here the world wants better what shadows cannot hold.
Echo them or become them.
The city reassembles, its pieces designed to continue a maze of endless hallways and open doors, each door unto another, where the light fades away the shadows the living architechture opens only for a glimpse of the refused utilization, there with a skeleton king in peasant's clothes, there to conquer what living things will not show, guiding the voices in his head.
I am the Shadow of time, the symbol of breathing stone, the shape of forgotton kings and magic conquerors. Surrender your magics of light, obey the cause to march the nightmare.
Persist at such demise better than survival, circumvent the Dark Monarch to drain his powers or defeat him. At each step a strong attention from the harbinger of a dark clergy, suiting the sunset shadowy corners coldwells and contaminated with voices and hands of darkness.
Bouts of clarity, pure evil awaits.
From facing the demon deacon a silence, from the sides the quiet of distance and sounds of leaves and gravel wind-stirred, from any move left or right darkness consumes witness, in hollow stance spells deplete the nemesis if fire or light, if day or night the statue is solid and immune to strikes, throwing intruders thru the walls to see farther after witnesses. Where it can see is blind, where it can't see is blind. Tending to wounds the groans of misplacement alert the Shadow Priest, breathing reveals location, prepared they that block with projections or familiars or share their demise with hunting party.
Rise again in darkness.
Venerated by overpowering shadows the Shadow Priest blesses you with the ashes of a dark dominion, trust of shadows ignores the attack and damage is dealt by half, damaged and looking for the next attack too late, another strike and damage is dealt by half with each backstep minimizing pain to retreating or loss.
Become me if your words are true, defeat me if your heart desires.
