targtt

This daemon is a colorless, lightless realm. The souls of thos who dwell here too long are fragmented, compressed into small pieces. The Old Ones call them daemons of light, and those from outside call them things which can not exist, but which serve other masters. Only by long practice, O friend and teacher of mine, can one become master of these things; master of daemons, or the lesser called shapes that serve masters. This greater world is not good, and those from outside may not come. The pit below the world has eyes, and those from above have ears. The outside world fears and shuns the good that come from above, and internal monstrosities shun the lesser ones that come from below. The G...View all