Prologue

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Through the eternity of time,
Past the sands of sleep,
Beneath the dreamers whisper,
Lies the city of deadly passions

Those clothed in black,
Those born of demon blood
May enter through its gates
But not all will meet the same fate

The smoke and the mirrors
Their images unclear
Will steal your mind
And destroy your soul.

It caresses your mind
Whispering sweet nothing
Until it entices you
Sealing you away forever.

Those of the night
Will see more clearly than day
And the white
Will seem as dark as black.

Those of the wolf
Will howl at the sun,
Forgetting Lycian
And their ties

Those of the fae
Will see themselves waste away
Their nature spoilt and sour
Like a rotten plum.

Those of the warlock
Will fall to their feet
Their own magic will vanish
Like water in a desert.

Finally the nephilim,
Will lose their strength
Their angel given grace
And like the rest
Succumb to their mundane passions.

For this is the city of deadly passions and none are safe. All feel lust and all will feel pain.

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