Safety was a delusion, and he loathed the notion that they had to flee walls, peaks, and valleys that protected, shielded, and guarded them, because the world no longer gave credence to borders, to fringes, to power and domination. A touch of prowess, a fizzle of precision, a raucous blend of might and treachery couldn’t consume, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t devour the sinuous, bending lines of bedlam slinking past their door. He was left with a foreign bout of nothingness, because the devilish pull of his invocations, the noxious blend of his irreverence, the twist, the distortion, of his feral regime, held naught an edge of might over the schemes, the ruses, the labyrinths of their unholy perils. And even here, embarking deeper into the holds of this sanctuary, was a mysterious, foolish enterprise, because he held no ruminations over the subject, had never gleamed upon its walls, had no notion of what in its confines – whether it was to be their newfound tombs, gleaming sepulchers, decadent catacombs to hide their bones, or a true, unending sanctum, concealing them from the rotten oars of caustic imbalances and shades tangled and knotted across their eyes. The Reaper rarely roamed without deliberation, without the forethought, the knowledge, the sentiments and examination of meticulous movements; he harbored cool calculations, not the rushing harpoon of a foolish, fervent juvenile. But even now, he was ordained and dictated to run course as a ignorant beast, gambling, instigating risk instead of projections and predictions, and as his piercing eyes took in the long, extending walls, the scents of the unfamiliar, of lives paralyzed by their own actions form long ago and the current dilemmas, embroiled and unrolling into sweeping falls. He’d called his harem here to safeguard, seeking shelter when the chasm could crashing down upon their heads, and the sinking, toiling feeling bit at his blackguard munitions, fueled his instigated, ignited contemptuous soul. He sought information from its clambering forces, he reveled in the notion of grasping command, proficiency and arms from the alms of its supporting structure, and coveted the right of supremacy, ascendancy, again and again, until the machinations shook from his scathing spine, and the reticence of his brow christened his molten apathy. They’d live to see another day, to prosper, to unite, to divide, to triumph and conquer; starting with this heinous pestilence. The rest of the earth could wait to crumble.

[Basin people are free to join. I'd love some W.A.R. information (or any other info) as well, if anyone is passing by~]