|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_01_01||For the previous fortnight, the smell of Greek Fire reeked from the ashes of the dead New Corsican defenders strewn across the Frontline of the Scorched Battlefield. Smoke still rose from their oil soaked remains as nightfall approached on that Sol's Day. Admiring my creation's handiwork, I entertained the protests of a few New Corsican prisoners. The sychophant philosophers sought to unnerve me with rhetoric concerning "ethical warfare" in this so called Age of Enlightenment. |
In their cross examination, these plebs purported that the Greek Fire I was preparing and rationing into casks was cruel and unethical, both in theory and in practice. They stuck out their chests as they claimed what I was creating was lacking of any virtue that the gods found admirable. I laughed heartily at their intellectual barbs and then returned in kind.
I reminded these Socratic imbeciles that there were only two truth in regards to the "ethics of war". First, those with power who fail to use it to their advantage are nothing more than wasteful fools. Second, those who fall prey to power beyond their grasp are deserved victims, whose complaints are whispered from cold, dying lips.
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_01_02||When dawn broke the next day, the New Corsicans were at it again, seeking to dissuade me in my purpose. The casks of "Hydra's Breath", my modified version of Greek Fire, would soon be dispatched to set ablaze their kinsman on the Frontline once more. "All is just and virtuous for the glory of Rome and the 19th Legion", I told them. The casks of my handiwork sat stacked in rows, only a few feet from their holding pit. |
The one called Brutus appealed to my compassion and begged me to forsake my task at hand. He pleaded with me to seek the wisdom of Seer Atticus of New Corsica before my soul be torn from my entrails and banished to the Underworld. Another prisoner called me a cur and told me that the retribution of his Ancient creators would be swft and just. His kinsman joined in and chided me for committing such atrocities to their "chosen people". I bit my thumb at him and laughed whole heartedly at the lot of them!
I am a man of science, reason, and opportunity while their skullcaps are filled to the brim with inepitas!
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_01_03||Damn their New Corsican tongues! Will their reprimanding never cease? Will their tongues never fall lame in their maddening acts of oratory? Brutus, acting as the voice and statesman of this New Corsican rabble, bombarded my poor ears for hours on end! His spineless voice hurled insults to provoke me and challenged me to engage him in spirited debate. I offered drafts of wine to any Legionnaire who could shutter his infuriating gob with a stone from their sling. |
Two score times I watched stone meet bone. I smiled as the light faded from his pretentious eyes, only to have Brutus's voice resume as he crawled his way back from the dead. It was a never ending crusade of didactic accusations and talk of his so called standards for "ethical" warfare. For hours, I repelled the urge to look upon his repugnant face, holding my rage at bay from a distance. It was then I heard him speak viciously of of my cowardice, barbarism, and the weight of my sin contained in the nearby casks.
Upon hearing his last string of insults, I could contain my resentment no longer! I loomed over the pit and stared down at the lot of them, casting a shadow worthy of Pluto himself. I set my smoldering gaze upon him. As I did, he blustered on about his immortal virtue... Up until I rolled a cask of my "immoral" concoction over the edge of the pit, setting it ablaze with my torch. The proceeding moments of tortured screams, crackling flesh, and gurgling pleas for mercy were but a pittance to pay for an undisturbed night of sleep.
I find your offer of two hundred and fifty gold Aureus for the purchase of Vespasian, Terror of Troy, on the verge of insult. The cost of two lions is a meager offer for such a fine housebroken slave. I have seen him slay two lions with a mere Gladius. This slave fears nothing on the sands of the Proving Grounds. He is a death bringer! With every kill, he will bring the cheers of the masses and coin to your pocket.
Do not misunderstand, while fearless and undefeated in the arena, he knows his place. He has been taught to cower under the heel of his owner and Legatus. Crassus himself trained him. This is a slave who will never take a sideways glance at you and will never long for freedom. He is as simple as he is ruthless.
As such, I demand no less than one thousand gold Aureus for him. At that price, you may send him to his death in a grand finale against whatever unbeatable odds you deem. His death will fuel the Glory of Rome and the entertainment of the Arena. Freedom was never Fate's design for such a man.
You are a student and slave no more. Face the new dawn with your freedom, my old friend!
Soon your your Gladius wll be wet with the blood of my enemies.
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_03_01||Novae Terrae: Dies Mercurii Numerus CCCLXIV|
Today marks the seventh year, since our arrival here in this strange new world. Marcus Antonius and his fair Queen's bid for the Triumvirate was doomed from the start. Neither Crassus, the 19th Legion, nor I could triumph against such futile odds. Only the gods know if time flows in the same manner here, but “The Lovers” are almost certainly doomed by Octavian's' wrath or their own hands by now. Still, I do not regret the virtue for which we fought or the oath we took to Marcus Antonius. Without Love, Peace, and the Republic's promise of future prosperity what purpose does War serve? At times, in those rare moments of serenity, I muse that Marcus Antonius and his Queen could have made the long sojourn here with us, to this New World. It would have granted their love an eternity to bloom.
Despite, the defeat we left behind and the obstacles Crassus and I now face, we have had acclimating to the many dangers present here in Brimstone Sands. We have successfully aided in the establishment of a new Roman settlement, called New Corsica. Here the remaining loyalists, advisors, and philosophers of Marcus Antonius's Republic now reside. With our new gift of immortality, these wise and virtuous men and women hope to explore higher minded pursuits than blood and battle. The Temple of the Ancients and their City of Ahket may prove to be such an endeavor. I have taken it on my honor to ensure that the people of New Corsica live in peace and prosperity for as long as we remain undying.
Crassus, on the other hand, lacks the same ambition. While these citizens of Rome and Alexandria seek muses and high minded endeavors, Crassus hunts for retribution for himself and the Legion; something to wash the taste of shame and defeat from his mouth. He sets his aim on a new conquest worthy to draw the gaze of the gods upon us. Perhaps, in their divine amusement they will show us mercy and bid us a means to return to our glorious Rome once more.
Truth be told, I pray nightly that Mars will temper Crassus's lust for battle. His constant pursuit of respect and acknowledgment are unbecoming qualities in a leader. He takes credit for other's deeds from past battles, mine in particular. Deeds that he has no ownership of, but feed the legend of his name. I humor his egotistical self adoration and allow it for now. I do so only to keep a united front and because many of the men quietly know the truth. Still, I fear a lifetime spent without fear of death may have ill effects on my "old friend" and force me to take action if it continues.
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_03_02||Novae Terrae: Anno CCLXVIII|
It has been two hundred and sixty years since Crassus set the 19th Legion, my brothers, to the purpose of conquering these Ancients, which inhabit our new world. In this time we have found that we are not alone here. Many souls from other cultures and times also occupy this strange and cursed land, but none were worthy of Crassus's wrath. Instead, he seeks to defeat the gods of this world, these Ancients and claim whatever power they may possess "for the Glory of the Legion and Rome". The philosopher and statesman known as Atticus stands in opposition to his actions and has such garnered Crassus's indignation. Despite his prowess and leadership, Crassus has never given a stones weight of credence to that which reside outside the field of battle.
Now my worst fears have come to pass. Crassus has turned the full fury of the Legion on the people of New Corsica and those who would follow Atticus's beliefs. His face is no longer that of the friend I once knew. He is possessed by some unworldly force. He sees me as a threat and challenge to his power, not the advisor and consul I had hoped to be. As such, I have rallied a portion of the 19th's most virtuous men; old comrades whom have yet to lose their sense of humanity, to defend New Corsica. I will be the salvation of the Legion's former good name and unseat my friend turned tyrant from his war throne.
We are vastly outnumbered in this campaign. As such, I plan to use the Fabian Strategy, utilizing covert ambushes, sabotage, and attrition to whittle away at their numbers. This will double the toll this endless warmongering has taken on our former comrades' morales. We will forgo the phalanx and cestus and utilize the minds of New Corsica to strike with cunning from the shadows. Crassus's sword arm and determination are formidable, but my oath to New Corsica is stronger than both. Let us see how the "legend" fares against the weight of his inflated deeds. Let us see what transpires when he faces the very men who made him the myth he claims to be.
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_03_03||Novae Terrae: Anno CCLXX|
It has come to this...
Come tomorrow, a new dawn will rise on the Legion and New Corsica.
My men and I stand on the eve of our final strike against "Crassus the Mad" and the corrupted souls of our former comrades. It took every bit of my men and I's resourcefulness to devise this coup, but I am confident every one of them is committed to our cause. Our raids have crippled Crassus's artillery and supply chains. Each and every day, Atticus's teachings bring those still redeemable back into New Corsica's service. Those few virtuous Legion brothers how cannot imagine an eternity of kinslaying.
We have contacted three critical divisions of the Legion whose men have turned from their fear of Crassus. They have agreed to join us tomorrow in a final campaign against Crassus's forces. All three divisions will arrive in the early morning and be ready for a covert attack at dawn. If all goes to plan and we can successfully rout the remainder of the 19th Legion, I will confront Crassus in single combat to ensure that the monster is undone once and for all.
Cession was never my intent, nor were the two centuries of infighting that have come to pass. Tomorrow's victory will be no small task, a march into the Underworld and back. But for tonight, I insist my men put down their shields and swords in the pursuit of wine and good company. Tonight, we will drink and celebrate an end to war as friends, Romans, and New Corsicans alike. Perhaps, if the mood strikes me, I may even put down my cestus and bring forth my cithara for a change.
I know this much, if our assault fails to force Crassus to surrender... I am certain my singing will.
My redemption is at hand! I have access to the Temple's inner sanctum at last! The 19th Legion will not allow millenia of New Corsican fear and the misguided, blasphemous ideas of it's addled minded philosophers prevent me from bringing glory back to my legend.
Legatus, I will not allow anything not even the fleeting tender moments we have shared since our arrival here to interfere with your capabilities as commander of my Centurions. Send your fastest horsemen with news from the Front Lines. Remember Drusilla, now is not the time for emotion, romance, or love...
We are at war and until that changes, neither will my regards towards you in the matter!
Legatus Legionis Crassus
There has been an unrest on the outer perimeter. Covert attacks against our encampments there have demoralized and scattered our forces. Whoever is responsible has not only wounded the flesh but the loyalty of our Legionnaires. At first, I believed it to be that New Corsican confidant and coward, Niobe. She has shadowed our deployments in the region and been a thorn in our side. However, based on these recent attacks, I fear I am wrong. Whoever is responsible knows of our past. The men already mutter of the traitor we dispatched so long ago.
Is it possible Tarquin could still live? If so, the defeat dealt to him by your hands has only steeled his determination to be our undoing. I have done my best to keep the morale high, but since your departure, the fangs of our wolves grow dull. They need the fear and awe your legend inspires to motivate them, much the way your own touch has motivated my desire.
Trust that I would never willingly disappoint you. It is Tarquin's accursed memory which plagues us, like a specter in the night. I have regrouped with my Prefects at the main Legion encampment and await your orders. Know this; if the traitor Tarquin or whoever impersonates him shows their head, I will lop it off and have it sent to you, as proof of my undying love.
I have gathered ten phalanx of the finest warriors the Legion has to offer to press our advantage in the Cursed Temple of our enemy. May Atticus and his Ancients be damned, along with all the New Corsican traitors who questioned my crusade! Within a fortnight, all of their heretic secrets will be mine and their power will bolster my legend and the glory of Rome for all time. Neither Markus Antonius's foolish tryst, nor the traitor Tarquin's defiance will stop me this time. You will not allow it!
While I crush these Ancients' defenses and secure the Temple's secrets, you will prepare the remainder of the 19th Legion's forces to embrace their destiny. Stand my men at the ready and await my orders to lay siege to the rest of the pathetic, sycophants of this world. By my will, you will lash out with the power of these false gods and drive the spear of my 19th Legion into the heart of Aeturnum!
I warn you now, Drusilla, do not fail me in this task. No pittance of pleasure that we have shared these decades will spare you my wrath if you do. Do not speak to me of your lust unless it is of your lust for battle!
Steel yourself, ready your Prefects, and put them to task like the ravenous dogs of war they are.
New Corsica will fall by my hand and with it this entire world. I command it!
Legatus Legionis Crassus
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_05_01||Novae Terrae: Dies Martis CCCLIX|
We have been damned us to a life in exile. I was a fool to put my faith in Marc Antony. He and his foriegn bride stirred our emotions with romantic sentiments of virtue. His foolish idealism and hope for a new Republic was damnation for my entire 19th Legion. Forced to turn tail and retreat to the coast, we were left with no choice. Traitors to our Empire, we watched defeated as the ships set sail in search of a port sympathetic to Marc Antony. Like dogs, we cowered and fled from a good and glorious death and the gods were not pleased.
My legacy was to be secure alongside Achilles and Jason. Instead, our paltry ship met Neptune's wrath in his own domain. It was as if Charybdis and Scylia thrashed about around us casuing an unimaginable maelstrom. Their jaws gnashing and tearing holes in our vessel. I was certain Jupiter himself would await if my eyes ever opened again. I was sure he would personally appear to further enforce his disappointment in his once favored son. But instead, we found ourselves here in the New World far from the prying eyes of our Roman gods.
For the last year, I believed this exile to be a punishment; a penance for me alone to pay. For months, the entire Legion looking came to me for answers and orders. Each one asking the same fruitless questions about family and home. Their voices and expressions maddening to me! I am no oracle or scribe. Nay! I am a warrior of Rome! Ask me not of your children, wives, and meager homesteads. I do not care. What is gone is gone. What matters now is before us...
I ordered, my secundus, Tarquin to manage the men in their daily training and their irksome interrogations. I must have the proper time to gather my thoughts and assemble a plan of action.
Legatus legionis Marcus Licinius Crassus
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_05_02||Novae Terrae: Anno CCLXV|
Mars, damn these mindless philosophers! We were all warriors once save for the New Corsican scholors and the foriegn, heathen servants of Marc Antony and his bride. If the so called brilliant mind of Atticus serves true, it has been over two hundred and fifty years since we set foot here. Marc Antony and his heretic wife are certainly long since dead and with good riddenence. It is now my time to recapture what their artful gifts for oratory rob from me and my exaltation to the status of myth.
See how weak their people are, these New Corsicans are not our fellow countrymen of Rome. Atticus and his lot have lost themselves in their higher learning and the Ancients of this world. Heretic! To dare compare the pitiful trace of divinity, this world considers gods to the mighty Pantheon of Rome is exactly that! Whatever power these Ancients possess, buried for one hundred mortal lifetimes in some arrid tomb, is not to be marveled at! It is to be conquered and its power used for the glory of Rome.
If Atticus had his way, my men would be laying down their Cesti and digging for old water jugs in the infernal heat of this desert. No, this is not what fate has planned for us... Nay, redemption, glory and honor through battle is our destiny!
Jupiter and his kin have greater plans for Crassus and his 19th Legion.
Legatus legionis Marcus Licinius Crassus
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_05_03||Novae Terrae: Anno Opscurus|
In mere hours, I will bathe in the light and favor of Elysium!
Tarquin and his mislead virtue could not stop me and neither will Atticus! Druscilla and her failure-filled warnings be damned! Her mind is weak. It is poisoned by the incessant talk of love! This world is not yet a place for such things! Until the 19th Legion is once again imortalized in the eyes of Rome, such words should not even be uttered!
I know once, centuries ago, I felt something for her... How fierce Druscilla's beauty once was. She was a kindred spirit, a fellow Centurion, and I was smitten with her visage. Her cold, calculating, nature and lust for battle made for a suiting concubine then, but no longer. The poison of Atticus's followers have weakened her, as it has all of my soldiers. Her emotions have rotter her discipline. Her last message was proof of that.
I was not brought here to be a husband or a statesman... I was brought to this world for glory and redemption!
There is no place for love or weakness in war. The New Corsicans spend their days on frivilous pursuits of so called virtue, while I engage in a legendary campaign of conquest in the name of Rome and Jupiter himself!
As I scribe these words, I tread the same soil the so called, "Ancients" of this new world once did. I march to their hidden place of power with the thunderous stride of the 19th Roman Legion at my back! Let be known, any heathen "god" who dares defy me in my task this day will feel the fury of Mars upon their skull!
Let all future Romans know this...
I am Marcus Licinius Crassus, most beloved son of Mars and Jupiter, the greatest Legatus legionis in the history of the Roman Empire, and Emperor of the First Age of a new Roman Empire! With the power of these heathens in my hands, all shall fall under my heel!
For the glory of Rome!
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_06_01||Wise and Noble Sophos Atticus,|
While I am forever grateful for the opportunity you have permitted me here, I feel my time here upon the Jagged Ridge is wasted. I have found a means to use what our Creators have left us for our own salavation. The Guardians that roam this place are wonderous, and poweful beyond comprehension. I would ask your permission and aid in continuing my research here. I believe it may be possible to take control of these Idols that protect the Ridge and employ them in the defense of New Corsica from Crassus or whomever else may seek to harm us.
As you know, I have always been the most gifted of all of your apprentices. I know you have not seen it first hand, but this discovery can bring peace to New Corsica and end the centuries of war our people have suffered. All I ask of you is that you see the brilliance in my proposal.
I want nothing more than your trust and support in pursing my discoveries. I know whole heartedly, that you would agree with my logical assessment of this.
I await your confirmation and news of additional resources so I may prove my brilliance to you.
Your humble servant.
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_06_02||Brilliant Philogus Nicobar,|
We have been over this before. I do respect your mind greatly which is why I have assigned you Jagged Ridge. You are being given a rare, opportunity to uncover the many secrets the Ancient creators have left for our people to discover. By no means is it in your purview to second guess the will of our Creators.
Even if it was possible to do so, it would require an understanding on par with The Ancients themselves, which despite your intelligence you do not possess. Even if you did, taking control of the Guardians for our own ends is an insult to the brilliance of their divine plan.
I trust that you are both intelligent and courageous enough to be my eyes and ears at the dig site at Jagged Ridge, as I commanded you to be. If I am wrong, then I know Prefectus Barnabus has need of a researcher for his security team just outside the Dead Zone. I would be happy to refer you to him.
Good fortune in your research,
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_07_01||So let it be written, so let this be known... |
I speak now to those who were forseen seeking wisdom beyond their grasp:
I write this on behalf of the all-powerful, unknowables I exist to protect.
The beings you call Ancients, I call my Masters. Their wisdom has foretold of you.
Your arrival in this Temple came to pass by their will.
May this missive inform you all your Ancients wish you to know.
Before the dawn of your great empires, before you concocted divine imposters to name stars, my Masters swam in the void between all things.
They roamed freely across the land, sky, and seas of all worlds and all times.
All existence belongs to them.
They smiled upon your ignorance and simplicity. They permitted you to live among their splendor.
They gave you this world and all eternity to flourish in a cradle ofl life.
They provided gifts your ignorant eyes cannot even begin to percieve.
Even the most mundane object of their design have the capacity for virtuous or wicked ends.
For a millenia , my Masters walked among you and ruled you, until your simple nature could no longer serve or entertain them.
Instead, your Ancients became Ahket itself...
They observe and scrutinize the mettle of humankind, their unfathomable wisdom judging your progress.
They wait patiently for you to escape your infancy and walk on two feet or utter your first real truth.
Pray in that time, you do not become entitled, vapid beasts or their wrath will be harsh and swift.
Medjay Akhar Rasul
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_08_01||Ancients Rise: Day 989 of Excavation: Sophos Marcella Reporting|
Removing the ruins left by countless natural catastrophes, tectonic shifts, other events, has been slow going initially. The discoveries we have made over the last nearly three years have been helpful to better understand the Ancients, but not what Atticus or I would have hoped for after three years of excavation.
The upper levels of the City and even the area surrounding the Temple itself are relatively defenseless and unguarded. These defense may have been destroyed by natural events or initial attempts by others to gain access to the city and temple. This leads me to believe that the true secrets of Ahket and the Ancients are much deeper into the site, beyond the Ancient seals we have discovered. Regardless of the risk we must gain access to what lies beyond these wards.
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_08_02||Ancient's Rise: Day 1198 of Excavation: Sophos Marcella Reporting |
If the tablets we have found are correct, the Ancients' seals act as a door to one of the Ancients' inner sanctums. These seals protects the Ancients' many wonders, science and magic far beyond our comprehension, from those unworthy to witness it. These wonders have sat waiting millennia for us, the chosen people of New Corsica to discover them. Wonders left to enlighten us and set us on a true path of wisdom and prosperity. Accessing this knowledge and proving Atticus's theories are the most important discoveries for our entire culture.
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_08_03||Ancients Rise: Day 1230 of Excavation: Sophos Marcella Reporting |
I would never consider doing this if I were I not thoroughly convinced by Atticus's theories concerning New Corsica's birthright and our place among these Ancient beings, The tablets we have unearthed and the markings on these seals might seem foreboding but I am not put off by their warnings.
These warnings concerning “waking the Guardians” are not meant for us. They are merely a means by which our Creators have kept New Corsica's birthright safe from those who would attempt to steal it. We are completely absolved of such threats of punishment. We must push forward now. The Ancients message awaits us. We must push forward without hesitation despite the dangers to ourselves.
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_09_01||May this wonderous achievement of the Ancients serve as a conflux for those who dwell below Akhet and those who have risen above it. |
May it serve as a confluence of mind, spirit, body, and time for all who come after and those who came before.
Bow your head as you enter, pilgrim! You are now bathed in the light of Netjer.
High Priest Abilil-Ilishu
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_09_02||Do not marvel in the physical glory of what your eyes perceive. Your eyes are fragile and of the flesh.|
Do not relish in the accomplishments of imortal souls. It is by The Ancients' designs that our souls are eternal.
Do not pray to the Ancients for wisdom. Instead, know that wisdom is their nature and serving servitude to their plan is ours
High Priest Abilil-Ilishu
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_10_01||Dearest Cavalier Clermont,|
May your heart always be as true as your aim and your blade, mon frère. It has been a pleasure to have you serve with us.
Isaac de Portau wishes to convey that the spirit upon which you will undoubtedly imbibe was his selection.
Henry d'Aramitz wishes nothing, other than for you to run from this life of chivalry as fast as you possibly can.
And last and of least consequence, I wish you long life, health, and to never grow stale and obstinate like the previous well-wishers have.
In truth, you are truly the best of us, Andre.
All for one, and one for all!
Your brothers in arms,
Armand de Sillegue, Seigner d'Athos et d'Autevielle and the Inseperables
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_10_02||My dearest brothers, |
It saddens me that this may be my last correspondance to you. I regret that I will not have the opportunity to meet my end at your sides.
This God-forsaken Phantom Tree is swarmed by countless Lost souls; each one seeking pardon from their eternal pain and suffering. I fear this may be a battle I cannot win.
It is not the physical toll that wears on me, my friends. Rather, the weight on my soul.
I find myself longing for my beloved and our blissful walks along the shores of Gastony. I yearn for the elation I felt fighting alongside The Inseparables, and Clermont as we stormed the Bastille for 'our' Louis!
This world is rich and wonderous, but it lacks that which I miss most.
I can feel the sadness and longing pulling at my soul every moment and with every miserable soul I dispatch. I fear I have little time before my heart surrenders.
Until then, I will fight unto my last breath.
All for one, and one for all!
Your brother in arms,
Charles de Batz-Castelmore, Sieur of Artagna
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_11_01||Citizens of New Corsica, |
After much research and thought, I have come to the conclusion that we were brought here for a purpose. This cradle of The Ancients' culture which surrounds us was not an occurrence of happenstance. It is fate which guided us here. It is destiny which laid these wonders before us.
With great oversight and deduction, I have determined that these Ancients, though known by many names and forms, are in truth our Creators, the very gods of Rome. It is my theory, which I am on the precipice of proving as truth, that the Ancients have led us here to be their new chosen people.
New Corsica sits at the dawn of a New Age of Enlightenment. I believe our Creators wish to communicate with us, teach us, and bless us with their knowledge so we can bring peace to this chaotic, New World. I ask that you do not place your faith in my word alone but to read my research and find the truth within for yourselves.
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_12_01||It stalks us by both night and day.|
Always the hunter, never the prey.
You dare not sleep, nor look away.
Poison stings, lead to decay.
Shriveled skin, so cold and grey.
When will it strike? You never can say.
|Tales_of_Brimstone_Sands_Body_12_02||Bone white fortress, blood red sand,|
With corpses piled as high a man.
If you wish to defeat it, you best have a plan.
Sword and shield had best be in hand.
Killing brave heroes dead by the score,
Roar, roar, comes the Manticore.