[Prophecy] The Harvest That Wasn’t; Famine’s Return.

[The King Of The Moon 5123]

Spoiler

 

[Prophecy]
The Harvest That Wasn’t;
Famine’s Return.

"Lord Gazardiel, change-bringer, realm-mender,
Harbinger of seasons and harvester of all.
Grand keeper of Creation’s keys, I beseech you:

Reap our sins as the grain, let naught remain.
Undo what is done. This world cannot be won.

 …Save us."
                    

But no answer came. The God of Endings and Beginnings lay dead in the sand.
Calor Mortis had been shattered, and the Great Dusk promised for this world would not come, nor the Immaculate Dawn promised thereafter.
The Hour of Twilight had struck, and the Lord of Fate was impaled upon the Spear of Brev. Destiny was smothered in her sleep and the hourglass fell on its side.

 

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

 

Woe to thee, 
Harvester’s Three
Sickle, Scythe and Sword,
Tools to plunder Vailor’s shores.

 

The world once young grew haggard and sick. Stars dimmed as the Dark bubbled up from below. The Black Sun came without radiance. The dead roamed an empty world. Rain rose the seas and drowned the fields. Mountains became dust. The last war had been fought and the last king starved on his throne. The cracks in creation began to show, as time eroded the Veil far past its intended expiration. 

 

(ArtemDemura)

The slow death. The steady doom,
A stagnant peril that eternity brings.
Famine and pestilence in a world that outlived war and death.

 

How long do we have left? A millenia? A century? Months? Minutes?
Magic has already begun to fade. Man cannot rule himself. The Xionists were wrong. The end times were thwarted, yet the cosmos remains doomed. Order is apathy. Apathy is suicide.

 

We must unmake to make again. We must destroy to create. 
Pave bridges to the Void that the Horrors may cross.
Open Hell’s gates and set the Abyss ablaze.

Absolution is no longer an option.
May sin consume everything and itself.
May Chaos reign.

 

Horned beasts and tentacular nightmares burn and bleed and squirm and scream in contrast to the grey, withering world. They are closing in.

 

The choice is yours.
 

[Traveller 2172]

Spoiler

 

[Olox_ 3408]

Spoiler

 

[satinkira 5921]

Spoiler

hes back

 

[tadabug2000 3505]

Another prophecy. Images crept into her minds eye, of desperate times and starving Kings. How strange. She missed a step, knees buckling and she found herself sprawled on the ground just outside. The girl didn't move, simply staring now upon weeds unplucked and grass overgrown.

 

[TreeSmoothie 4898]

A woman of broken and shattered mind - body still lined with the Infernal sigils of the war that had struck down Gazardiel and maimed Eshtael - writhed in her sleepless slumber. A shriek pierced through Hexicanium, jolting awake as she remembered the fateful battle over, and over, and over again. Dame Viktoriya shuddered, withered & bony hands clutching the stone slab she slept on. 

"Not again, not again ..."