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期待一下,。。。。。。。。。。。 。。。。。。
This daemon war camp lies directly across from Erebus, via the craggy Vale of Mourning. The Living know very little of Erebus. In our mythology, it is known as a place of darkness in the Underworld. In truth, it is the daemons' traditional province. Its sharp, regular architecture cuts a stark contrast to the pale, natural shapes of the surrounding plains and mountains. Jagged arches and statues of tortured souls mark its pathways and open places. Before, when they were servants, wardens, and torturers for Lord Hades, daemons bustled, assembled, and were given orders within Erebus. Now they merely pass through, armed, towards the city, and beyond.
The journeying shade who has made it this far now enters onto the Far Plains. The call of the Tower is now great, like a low hum in the ears. It pulls at the shade like sleep pulls at the truly fatigued. More salt flats give way to brambles, rocky-outcroppings, and vast precipices. The rocks part way, and across a great chasm the dread Tower comes into view. Eerie energies gleam from its many windows. The shade's pale semblance of a heart skips a beat, and for a moment, its ghostly breath is taken away. From here on in, the shade walks barely by its own will. Passing through a stone entrance, into the Dread Halls, the image of the majestic tower burns within the shade's mind. Passing out again onto the dread path, the shade joins its brothers and sisters. But with each step, the memory of life, which as been fading, now flashes back, and the journeying shade must relive each moment of his or her life, their great and wicked deeds, their failures and triumphs, with mounting fear, knowing that all will be known, all judged.
Daemons now swarm the Tower's halls, and the way is barred to shades. But if you could enter, you would marvel at the sight. The Tower of Judgment is cobbled out of the fabric of the universe. Once you pass into the Tower, you are no longer properly anywhere. The green cosmos of Tartarus, the world beneath the world, looms distantly beneath, where the floor falls away. Though no shade enters these doors twice, if they did, they would discover that each floor had rearranged itself each time - governed by the subtle forces of the turning of the spheres.
On the bottom-most level - if they are still there - the Three Judges reside. It is Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthys who judge all the dead - or did - and sent them to fair Elysium, foul Tartarus, or back into the Plains, to spend eternity. |
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