Quoted By:
When you see the Leviathan, the Great Wyrm of the MAGUS, you realise that no weapons can possibly defeat it. You may as well try to grenade or shoot a mountain. But this Devouring Serpent grinds mountains. It makes you think of a trepanning tool, a disc harrow or hole saw, that the old phrenologists used to drill into a section of skull. Except the dome of this skull is made of concrete that cracks and fractures, flakes in slabs, runs and flows like water before this machine and its monstrous disc-propeller like cutter face. You see solid stone whirling as vapour, pillars of rock drifting as incorporeal plumes of dust, and earth pouring in torrents like waterfalls as the Great Wyrm advances. The song of the Leviathan is anguish. It is the sound of the Tortured Earth, of cities and civilisations being crushed into dust and despair. You hear nothing but this anguish, and its tremors twist and pluck at every sinew and every heart-string of your soul.
