All right. Let's get down to business!
High In the Rocky Mountains, a solitary figure sits on a throne carved from directly from the living stone itself. Cloaked in a monk's robes, the figure is as motionless as the rest of the mountain. Suddenly, the figure reanimates, throwing back the cowl to reveal a man, his seeming youthful features betrayed by the black hair going gray at his temples. His blue eyes flashed and he seemed to stare into space as if seeing something in his mind.
"Aaah, Tarasque, you have returned," said the man as he walked to the large black table in the center of the cavern, "I assume your brethren are not far behind, as are those you call enemy."
Pulling a small golden medallion from the folds of his robe, the man laughed, a deep booming sound that reverberated off the cracked and lined stone walls. As it bounced and echoed, the sound changed and it began to sound as the voices of many tortured souls crying out. "Soon, you will all bow before the hand of Hygelac."
High In the Rocky Mountains, a solitary figure sits on a throne carved from directly from the living stone itself. Cloaked in a monk's robes, the figure is as motionless as the rest of the mountain. Suddenly, the figure reanimates, throwing back the cowl to reveal a man, his seeming youthful features betrayed by the black hair going gray at his temples. His blue eyes flashed and he seemed to stare into space as if seeing something in his mind.
"Aaah, Tarasque, you have returned," said the man as he walked to the large black table in the center of the cavern, "I assume your brethren are not far behind, as are those you call enemy."
Pulling a small golden medallion from the folds of his robe, the man laughed, a deep booming sound that reverberated off the cracked and lined stone walls. As it bounced and echoed, the sound changed and it began to sound as the voices of many tortured souls crying out. "Soon, you will all bow before the hand of Hygelac."