From the Oxe'r Towers, we can spot the coconut hawks diving low. I now confess, we must truly be lost in the depths of hell. For in mine gut is thine own memory and thine harmony. Accord (a ‘chord’), inverted, and so shall it be clang again, announcing cunning death, and the deepest red ochre loss. Thaexarla Eldritch and I will spend the night here, each without a body. The odor of the land imbues every moment. Let us not perish, though low and dead. In the land below, we abide! The demon seeks no sustenance, food or drink, even that of the desiccated remains of others. I began to lament the hectic pace of the days and I wasn't sure how long we'd wandered. No water to be found here, where the rivers ebb only with blood. In some way, this basin was itself pure, and untamed. The birds sang to me, their voices harsh in the low, guttural tones I didn't recognize. They bathed us in song spells, their vigor. The waves lashed and wove against each other. I lay there on the molten nimbus, surrounded by the mountains of ash, their deadly faces as smooth as silver.
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