Note: This page is kept only for entertainment purposes. Its contents and relation to the character in question are outdated.

Arachnea chathead3
One would think that we, who are creatures made purely for war, would have no culture....


For a long time
the Battlefield
Blasted Mountain
was left alone
unknown by most.

A few wild animals
stalked the charred earth
finding no prey
leaving again soon.

Before it all
a statue sat.
A statue of immense beauty
with flowing robes
in shimmering colors
and waist-long hair
the color of Magic.

This was the sight
that met
the first Wanderers
who came
upon the battlefield,
about a hundred
and thirty years
after the last slaughter
on the site.

They came upon the place
of unimaginable horrors 

bleakened by the ages
in the light of
The Rising Sun.

Before it all
on the edge
of the cliff
sat the statue.

Alas, it was not a statue!
As they found out
when they approached
to inspect it.

It was alive
in the hidden
Depths of the Flesh

to find out
what transpired
they set up
their village
near the former battlefield.

In time,
as the wars were mild
they decided to stay
until the statue woke up

they created a garden
of Warring Flowers
on what had once been
The Battlefield of Blasted Mountain.

And they named it
exactly what it had been named

Years came
Decades went
Yet the Statue
the Statue never moved.

It was a rock
a final boundary
an everlasting wall
in the war-ridden plane.

The one thing that stayed
the one thing that remained.
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