Lucious and bountiful, its harvest would be worth its weight in gold.
It rustles beneath a sky near dawn. The hall behind them, as well as all the other phantoms, have vanished.
And here Somnus stands as the sole ghost remaining, clad in dark, heavy robes of antiquity, pale as alabaster, and dead as the gravesoil beneath his sandals. His hand raises, and he stares at his palm, blinking once before lowering his arm back to his side. ]
Or... an end, perhaps. [ Without the metal cage of his armor surrounding him, his voice is somehow richer, its metallic echo lost to the dream; the expression he wears is that of stone, as if his helm had never left his head. ]
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Lucious and bountiful, its harvest would be worth its weight in gold.
It rustles beneath a sky near dawn. The hall behind them, as well as all the other phantoms, have vanished.
And here Somnus stands as the sole ghost remaining, clad in dark, heavy robes of antiquity, pale as alabaster, and dead as the gravesoil beneath his sandals. His hand raises, and he stares at his palm, blinking once before lowering his arm back to his side. ]
Or... an end, perhaps. [ Without the metal cage of his armor surrounding him, his voice is somehow richer, its metallic echo lost to the dream; the expression he wears is that of stone, as if his helm had never left his head. ]