The Black Mariner:
Behold, my blackened, grim and gory axe, the searing glow of trenchant steel
I’ll notch another widow to my haft, and wreak red vengeance 'cross the waves
Tales of black-sailed argosies, bedevilled by base treachery!
The Antediluvian Oracle:
His gaze is as fire, his words are as spear-points, his voice is as thunder,
his touch as the plague!
The Black Mariner:
Storm-prow cleaving, dragon rending, nighted deeps far, far below
Hail-scur scouring, sea devouring, sunken realm’s ethereal glow
The Antediluvian Oracle:
And one night, there came a storm, a storm with searing red winds
Fire and steel rode within it, and vengeance writ in thunder and blood!
The Black Mariner:
Down sixty fathoms, from stygian coral-clad tombs the pitiless abyssal sea
disgorges its shambling mold-mottled dead, dank innards blackly acoil with
nests of slithering things!
Ghosts aglide upon the eldritch seas, unfathomed voyage to ascendency
Traitorous blood, the surf roils red, churning crimson, thrice-cursed dead
The Antediluvian Oracle:
'Tis enough that men might dream of being kings without aspiring to the power
of gods
To be continued in «Arcana Antediluvia Act II: The Demon in the Dusklight
Crystal»