Inward-Looking Eyes

In the lower depths, shadows gather. Somewhere in the warren’s twisted alleys, a clock strikes, its chime a number never before heard. Lights flicker briefly casting glows in colors indescribable before returning to their dull yellow hum. Is that chanting?


look west - look west - look west


Pph’nglui mglw’nafhthe King Tide rises. Look west, dear roader.