The wind blows over metal plating, hard stone halls traced with ore. There is a presence here of something as old as the earth—heard in a scraping whisper and the long, ringing tones of otherworldly bells.
The wind blows over metal plating, hard stone halls traced with ore. There is a presence here of something as old as the earth—heard in a scraping whisper and the long, ringing tones of otherworldly bells.