The Fall of Roshamuul Vol.2 (Book)

	My People Were Always Proud and Cruel.
Aparência(s):
Autor:	Desconhecido.
Gênero:	Indefinido.
Localização:	Roshamuul.
Traduzido:
Adicionado:	futuro (futuro)
Artigos relacionados:	Gods, Demons e Zathroth.
You read the following. Texto Original: My people were always proud and cruel. Not entirely inhabitants of this world; only the passing to and fro other realms was always natural for us. We were no great warriors, but we served in our own ways in the god wars. In the service of the gods, we helped those allied to Zathroth. We were spies, messengers, advisors; and we manufactured weapons of war in our own, special way. I was one of the first. A leader, a priest, a prophet. Yet I always let others do the outstanding things. I fancied pulling strings and being the secret initiator of many things; but I'm not sure now how much of this is true or some kind of paltry excuse I convinced myself to believe. All the great achievements of our race were initiated by others. But I have been there, and outlived them all. Early on, my people developed a mastery of dream, unparalleled before. We shaped dreams, and dragged them into reality. We constructed dreams, with the only purpose to use them as facilities to forge other dreams in them. The concept has become so natural and trivial to me that it is hard to explain. It is like explaining colours to a blind man. Suffice it to say that we used dreams, both self-made and stolen, to shape the world and provide us with shelter, sustenance, tools and weapons. Dreams soon became the currency and life blood of our society. We were never numerous though, and managed to convince the leaders of our side that we were too valuable to be wasted on the battlefield. So we dwelled in our city made of stolen dreams, and schemed. Sometimes against our mutual foe, sometimes against our allies, and sometimes within our own. For several centuries this kept me occupied and entertained. We built the great dream catcher, our greatest accomplishment. A monument of our power. With its might, incomprehensible to people bound only to one world, our might was amplified in unimaginable ways. We rose in power, higher and higher; rivalling that of Zathroth’s favourite pets, the demons. This led to a few clashes between them and us. We managed to hold our own until now; and this is what probably will lead to our downfall. A short while ago, the council was approached with the request that we use the arts of our race to construct something entirely new: a prison made of dreams, using the veils and barriers of other worlds to dampen the power of all creatures, and lock them in and torture them for all eternity. We did not question this request. It was much too tempting to grow even more powerful, and so we consented. Little did we know that everything was staged and we were purposely misled.     Você lê o seguinte. Tradução: ...