In the monastery of the Magi
Where two tributaries of the Tigris meet
Stands the library of the sons of Sirius
Guarding an ancient secret.
Beneath it's foundation lies a corridor,
Which ends in a circular room.
The walls, the floor and ceiling adorn pentacles of dread significance.
Rays of subtle and unseen force, the prison of the spawn of Cthuhlu.
By the dome does hang by three massive chains
A sphere comprised of iron
Composed of interlocking bands.
The dragon can be seen from in between them.
A giant statue of hazy rock crystal
Shot with clouds of color.
Great leathern wings lie folded on its back.
It's feet with the talons of a hawk and a face of serpents with no heads.
By its six eyes does it stare with darkness.
The terrible power of its will can be felt as crawling insects on the skin.
Communicating with thoughts and images in the head of man,
Does it compel him closer so that it may snatch the life from him.
For it will be the end of the sons of Sirius
And all who follow their ways.
In the monastery of the magi where two tributaries of the Tigris meet,
The library lies in ruin and the sons of Sirius have fallen.
Now the dragon is free to roam this plane as it pleases,
Ushering in chaos.
all rights reserved