Bitter taste the western waters..
(wonder ye never what the horizont hides?)
And bitter are the tales and stories of
the sea whose waves now beat against the
stones in the cold and dark north..
They speak often of dragon
islands..Beautifull yet terrible beasts..
Dealing death and destruction as they spit
their fires of malice..
Even far away cities in the darkest deeps
of the oceans..Of kingdoms none ever saw..
And the western jewel city..Standing proud
and lone at the western coast..
Not knowing that soon their crystal
heavens and distant spheres would be the
houses of armies of spirits, and their
beloved city was doomed before it was
raised by hands now dust in a traveller's
tale or song..
Few memories remain for the descendants
are few and listeners are less..
Who doth now worship the gods of old and
hold their names dear at heart?
(did not that there old man wear a queer
Aye! How forgotten are not the ancient
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