Coronation Of A Witch-King
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| Coronation Of A Witch-King | ||
| Implemented | No | |
| ID | TBC | |
| Locations |
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| Value | xx Septims | |
| Weight | x.00 | |
A soul, willing. A mare slaughtered. Lay him on a bed of flowers, keep still. Stone, hard as earth. Sisters, pick one. Crush it, keep hitting until it cracks, like hen’s egg. Lay his dreams open to the wind, let nature take them. Let fungus rot, dreams turn to nightmares. Take nature made into tool, let flesh rip like bone cracked. Let him spill, let flowers bloom crimson red. Take tendon and sinew, braid with twigs, thorns and hair of witch. Take flesh and everything left inside, light cauldron’s fire. Boil with mare’s blood, let man and beast become one. Sisters, each take our copper cup. Let the broth fill it to the brim, let it fill our mouths. Let it drip from the mouth, let us laugh in cacophony. Let it fill our hearts, one with nature, throbbing.