Along the far eastern peaks, there is a valley where no wind blows. It is dry, it is desolate, and those who live there are forced to cling to the shadows to survive in the blistering heat of the mighty sun.
It is a harsh and unforgiving place, save for a single, lonesome oasis.
Shrouded in exotic greenery and the promise of lush shelter, the golden temple at its heart draws the eyes of many who wander.
But it is not to be approached lightly.
Within the temple's walls dwells an ancient power that feasts upon the souls of mortals and the fruit of death.
A dejected god who perches upon a crumbling throne and takes back twice what he gives to his devoted subjects.
A gluttonous creature cursed with an unholy appetite and gruesome habits who rules from atop a monument that was once built out of respect, but is now upheld only by fear.
Many thousand suns have passed since I last visited that place.
I wonder if it still stands... and if so, what became of the twisted being who ruled over it?