THE NEW AND IMPROVED ADVENTURES OF ALLEGORY AND ITALICS
Of What Use Is This Senseless Victory?
The Fourteen Deadly Spirit Shards, empowered by the final will of All Those Who Had Resisted Not In Vain, forged in The Earliest Reckoning, beyond The Marvelling Moons, each the last remaining sigil of those mighty few who, long ago, banded once together, forming The True Alliance Of Both Lost And Fallen Realms, descend now suddenly from the failing embers of the blazen pale and ponderously scorched remains of The Once Heavenly Fires.
Arching swiftly through the burning ether, towards the still-beating heart of The Dark God Of The Undead, each inscribed with the mightiest of its peoples' ancient incantations, bent solely now upon vengeance for transgressions past, to foil the designs of The Greatest Sire of the True Unholies who had wrought their utter devastation within the countless eons past.
However, upon this monumentous day of days, The Highest Prophet of Darkness lies distracted, as his fate approaches, by the bare mechinations of a single, middling girl-child, contented by an insect dwelling quietly upon a flower, which she seemed to love. Never before had The Foremost Of The Prime Evils gazed upon something of such beauty: upon a scene of the uttermost feeling and devotion; upon a perfect moment of complete and unassailable truth. Never before had The One Destroyer Of All Worlds paused, in all his long ages of torment, suffering and destruction, across the vast unending spaces of both The Known And Unknown Realms, to glance with such jealous and adoring fixation, upon that which would be counted even among the least of her own number: a gentle child of purity and innocence, who knew nothing of The Undying Power Of The Dark; bemused of the simple unnamed wonderment contained within the shattered remnants of her dismal, failing land.
What victory then, is to be had, as The Fourteen Blades of the Eternal Ages, as The Searing Knives of Truth and Justice, are plunged in triumph, with a force greater than that which had first unmade The Twenty Thousand Suns of Middle Heaven, unknowingly, into the midst of The Deep Infernal Heart of Hearts, which had itself already been defeated, by the single-minded mechinations of that self-same insect, child and flower; which has, just now, been torn to atoms, in the righteous fury and indignation of the All Gracious And Immortal Powers of Light, Mercy And Benevolence?
The Fourteen Deadly Spirit Shards, empowered by the final will of All Those Who Had Resisted Not In Vain, forged in The Earliest Reckoning, beyond The Marvelling Moons, each the last remaining sigil of those mighty few who, long ago, banded once together, forming The True Alliance Of Both Lost And Fallen Realms, descend now suddenly from the failing embers of the blazen pale and ponderously scorched remains of The Once Heavenly Fires.
Arching swiftly through the burning ether, towards the still-beating heart of The Dark God Of The Undead, each inscribed with the mightiest of its peoples' ancient incantations, bent solely now upon vengeance for transgressions past, to foil the designs of The Greatest Sire of the True Unholies who had wrought their utter devastation within the countless eons past.
However, upon this monumentous day of days, The Highest Prophet of Darkness lies distracted, as his fate approaches, by the bare mechinations of a single, middling girl-child, contented by an insect dwelling quietly upon a flower, which she seemed to love. Never before had The Foremost Of The Prime Evils gazed upon something of such beauty: upon a scene of the uttermost feeling and devotion; upon a perfect moment of complete and unassailable truth. Never before had The One Destroyer Of All Worlds paused, in all his long ages of torment, suffering and destruction, across the vast unending spaces of both The Known And Unknown Realms, to glance with such jealous and adoring fixation, upon that which would be counted even among the least of her own number: a gentle child of purity and innocence, who knew nothing of The Undying Power Of The Dark; bemused of the simple unnamed wonderment contained within the shattered remnants of her dismal, failing land.
What victory then, is to be had, as The Fourteen Blades of the Eternal Ages, as The Searing Knives of Truth and Justice, are plunged in triumph, with a force greater than that which had first unmade The Twenty Thousand Suns of Middle Heaven, unknowingly, into the midst of The Deep Infernal Heart of Hearts, which had itself already been defeated, by the single-minded mechinations of that self-same insect, child and flower; which has, just now, been torn to atoms, in the righteous fury and indignation of the All Gracious And Immortal Powers of Light, Mercy And Benevolence?
posted by Valhenstrogg | Tuesday, November 22, 2005
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