Quoted By:
>It's night, blacker than pitch. Stars dot the sky, appearing as myriad silvery pinpricks punched in a canvas of darkness.
>Fog rolls in, brushing its ethereal fingers against blades of grass in quiet rasps like the rustling of ancient papyrus.
>A disturbance rankles this terrestrial realm, undulating through corridors of space, time, and existence.
>Almost like a whisper...
>.......ennnnnchaaaaaaad........
>.....ENNNNCHAAAAAD....
>An explosion! A fiery maelstrom, engulfing and then obliterating the gloom in a tintinnabulation of leaping, writhing flames!
>Amidst the soaring conflagration, a deep, ululating cry slices through the crackling air like the blade of a knife that seeks to carve infinity itself in twain:
ENCHAD.
