Malintra-Shadowmoon

The mountain was watching over, luxuriant, full of dark dripping vegetation, from which oozed a greasy moisture. Vines spread across its flanks, and the grapes produced a wine of astonishing colour, with frightening and brilliant tones. As far as you could see, vegetables farming surrounded the mountain, and gave disfigure vegetables, scattering fetid smells. The cattles were gathered in foul barn, no one ate their meat. At nightfall, nobody would have ventured on the foothills, and weeping willow shed tears of a curious color. One day, the mountain collapsed in on itself. It moaned, in a deep and cavernous voice. A real voice. A Lake appeared. The surface had a repulsive color, and drinking that water was making you sick. Waves dance on the surface, as if an unholy heart were beating beneath the depths. Some fools took a swim, and swear they’ve seen light coming from the abyss. One day, the mountain exploded. Ash rose up, covering the sky. The plume of smoke was sometimes covered by