Despite the mountain’s brittle screams and wails of condemnation, making every effort to throw this evil into cold oblivion, in the hopes to drown it in the relentless storms that carried their rage.
This wraith persisted, defied, fought through the obstacles the mountains presented to it. Serpentine, were the movements. But it was far from graceful, there was no grace in describing such a abomination. With every step, climbing ever closer to the place where this creature’s previous life began.
A ledge he found, in the frozen peaks he stood. Anchored to the cliff face he saw through the snow-blanched veil and glimpsed monumental structures in the distance.
The mountains could not hide such secrets from him and alas the curtain fell.
Flags dancing with the winds atop spires of gold, brick work as white as the snow that fell. Chimes, songs of the pure. He heard them. Yes he heard them.
It stirred something in his thoughts, deja vu brought on by the memories of the day he first looked upon this place. Kamar-Taj.
For a moment his body shook, feathered mantel ruffled, spine cracked and the black eyeless snakes that licked and clung to his shadow and his form, wreathed in excitement….he could smell the magic that emanated from it.
Multitudes of piecing eyes revealed themselves in the folds of his cloak….something foul clung to the stark figure like a parasite. He was wrought with something incurable, something wretched.
But….he had returned baptised in the blood of the Old Gods…
It was only a matter of time before the old magus reached the holy ground and consumed the light there as well…..
for he only knew of the abyss…and slept in the dreams of his masters who dwell there.