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[ at the home of the Cult at Gorfuin,
in the depths of the Skittering Wood,
there is a weathered temple on a hill, shading a copse of small, twisted trees, and a trickling creek with a bed of gleaming black stones.
it is some years before the arrival of GllChk the Fair. the cult is newly fifty strong, but fast on the heels of cause for celebration, so too arrived cause for despair.
A member of the cult died, and their number fell again to 49.
it was meant to be, and of all days, to be now, whispered the God to its priest. a hole in his heart, from the moment he was born-- the God of Fate could (or would) defer it not.
It came down to the priest, that for the first time, he would need to perform a service for the dead.
He enlisted the service of a grave digger.]
in the depths of the Skittering Wood,
there is a weathered temple on a hill, shading a copse of small, twisted trees, and a trickling creek with a bed of gleaming black stones.
it is some years before the arrival of GllChk the Fair. the cult is newly fifty strong, but fast on the heels of cause for celebration, so too arrived cause for despair.
A member of the cult died, and their number fell again to 49.
it was meant to be, and of all days, to be now, whispered the God to its priest. a hole in his heart, from the moment he was born-- the God of Fate could (or would) defer it not.
It came down to the priest, that for the first time, he would need to perform a service for the dead.
He enlisted the service of a grave digger.]
