The Hallow Throne

In a dying land, a banished king sits atop a broken throne. Exiled to the furthest reaches of The Hallow Sphere. For no punishment could befit the sins of such a man. Thus, he was cast out and was soon forgotten by the rest of the sphere. Left to wait out the rot in his heart. Long has been his slumber within these empty walls of granite stone, with only the whispering wind making itself known. For an eternity he has been awaiting the day he would rouse to the sweet sound of his resurrection. When the quarter moons would align themselves and give birth to a new dawn. A dawn which would signify this sphere's end. The beginning of the end.

There is a saying here in the Hallow that when one's soul leaves one's body, the Hoarfrost King will come to collect his dues. In return for passage to the Ether Spheres, you must first face yourself as you truly are. And if you succumb to the lust of self-destruction, then he will take you into his bitter arms and whisk you away to a place more horrific than your worst nightmares.