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Venomous Lurthen
Tomes of Amaxathroth > Ink, Blood and Parchment |
If there is a lowest swamp to this world, it is broken-walled Lurthen in the cold highlands of Alben, where all the venoms of man and vitriols of woman pool to fester. Scarce a single bird, beast or slave remains in that desolate sea-bounded land, for the Lurthenac Arch-Poisoners have practiced their arts with exhuberance for many a lifetime. Red of hair and pale of skin, they breed sallow progeny and engage in slow dances of venomed murder with one another. Lurthen and its dangers stand along and isolated, for men of nearby lands slay any who bear the visage of the Poisoner.
Woe to the traveling bird who comes to rest in Lurthen, for she will be netted and penned beneath stone for an Arch-Poisoner's experiments.
When Lurthen was rich with victims, and barges brought slaves and beasts from across the seas, Arch-Poisoners competed in the spasms and pain-wracked death they could induce. Women of cold Frena were thrown into the blackened river that slides beneath Lurthen's bridges, and wagers made on the breaths they would take. Now, each new victim is treated as though gold, poisoned a hundred times over, the right for their death bid upon with dusty goblets and forgotten gems.
There is wealth and sorcery in Lurthen, beneath broken towers and in deep vaults, but the Arch-Poisoners pay it no heed. Neither gold nor gem can match the twitch of the poisoned in its tug upon their venomous hearts. Go to Lurthen, foolish thieves - the Lurthenac will gladly indulge your presence for as many years as you yet suffer.
[ Posted by Reason on October 26, 2006 ]
