born of oasis and chaos both, of blood red sand and pure clear water, of stormy skies and ancient trees, the King in rags, Lord of the Sand-Seas. King of the city of sand and blood, of darkness deep, and fires dim, of forged walls and weathered floors, of undying soldiers and everlasting plagues. Deprived of love and life, weathered, worn, Wandering his lands, but devoid of loyal kin, With nary a soul, much less a will to win. Only, a descendant finds them and reminds them of their purpose- -Protect and ward, as you were named, old lord, who sat apon the throne of fire.