Few things shine as bright as the jewels of Hell
A rare and diseased jewel, a canker fallen from the heavens
“Gold. GOLD. GOLD! Beautiful, wonderous, Gold! I am Rich I tell you. I am the luckiest man alive!”
“Ever in my hand, lies the Blade of the Mad. It’s straight, simple craft is so alluring to me… It drives me to evil, but I love what it does. For the first blood the blade tasted was that of a human.”
By late afternoon, the sky starts to cloud over. The sun shines behind the fluffy clouds, gilding the edges and showing a Jacob's-ladder of rays streaming through the gaps...very pretty. Gradually the clouds shift into a new configuration: you realize with awe-struck, preternatural clarity that the clouds form a map of a coast-line that you know against the blue sky as ocean: surely it's a Sign! Suddenly, the golden beams coalesce into one long ray that strikes across the blue. A star-like gleam flashes under the ray: perhaps it is an island? But the charts show no island there...who would want to hide an island? Who could do it?