over norse buttresses, through vast knolling fields green with envy. through the valley of the sacred. into the well of the doomed. beneath the great sulfur mines of gurtudo. the black sacrilege crest of ra is found.
hold the grail to saurons sky and beg forgiveness to an unmerciful master. the ground shakes. the earth peals loudly into a chasm. ten thousand legionnaires are exhumed from an earthy grave. ten thousand sets of eyes focus on a relic that doubles as a key. ten thousand screams spank the air into ten thousand pieces. the chamber murmurs a bubbling, boiling, growl. pressure rises. humidity languid with the breath of the dead. victory alive on the warrior's lips. dancing. the taste of blood meshing the internal gears at full speed. melee. the spoils of the dead are draped over every rock and blackened stump. an entranced smile creeps along his face. his eyes are reflected off the relic of ra burning a cross in his hand.
victory.
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