Tales say the grim citadel congealed from a wanly luminous cloud that came down from ulterior stars. Surrounded by a blasted landscape, cloaked in mists, it crouches like some alien crustacean, black, hunched, and spined. It thrums always with a sound part machine and part beating heart, and that sound is the insistent hunger of the Fear Lords.
These Lords are well named; they draw their sustenance from the emotion fear in all its varieties. For eons they have been shut outside; only their hunger can reach into the cosmos. On this world and all the others where the fortress has appeared, they have fed through the actions of the master of the fortress. A creature with a face like a mask of flexible bone, he is their emissary, their general, and their will and soul. He commands their legions of terror: automatons powered by the soul-remnants of captives who died in abject fear in the fortress's chambers of horrors.
This post made my stomach growl...am I a Fear Lord?
ReplyDeleteThe artwork goes well with the piece. Is this another interesting entry into Strange Stars?
Ummmm. I suspect it just means it's your breakfast time, but you never know.
ReplyDeleteNo, this is a fantasy riff. Companion to the post Monday.
is one of the fear lords Krull?
ReplyDeleteKrull is a planet (at least in the movie of the same name), so probably not. :)
ReplyDelete