Treasure of a Dream - A Prelude Poem to The Men in the Woods.
Though he can not say the date, he most certainly knows where.
Through forgotten trees and and many a cloud watched wind.
Gently goes he, into his own darkness, but for whether he
will find it, you'll have to wait and see.
The Men in the Woods.
The sun rose softly, through the bright vortex of Pychotronic Pulsars. The Xazatrooth rise from their sleeping vaults, and
continue thier hunt for forgotten knowledge, and to wake from their eternal dream journey through madness.
The Xazatrooth were once creatures of are following, but fell into the trap of a mad quest.
A quest that led them further and further from human creatures, until they became lost, and took themselves to a place where
but only a few dared to tread and wander through, this place was and is, something that no psychiatrist has yet knowledge
of, it is for there, a place locked in the deepest subconscious of but only a few Entheo - Aexploras.
They have not only created Sigil Auras around themselves, but have also developed an entirely new animal dialect, a toungue
that has not been spoken of for before the Days of The Ancients.
In the very long time that they have spent in this realm, they have practised games to relieve thier mental strains from their
continuing search for an escape, "Mind Strokes", and "Power Contentions" are but two of these.
I can not say whether or not their bodies have been completely taken into this realm, or if they are still mearly locked in
the subconscious state. What is certain however, is that they will be forced to abide in this place until they meet the end
of knowledge and will then choose between, their present state forever, or to be sent back to the grim existence of man to
use up the rest of their days, with only their journeys and madness as an ever faint memory.