The investment was, of course, complete madness. The boter in particular had shoved items down my throat, and I had accepted them for no reason other than lacking the energy to say no. No sooner than I had aquired the items; Blizzard started deleting accounts on bnet in response to the dupe going public, and I was forced to mule everything over to new accounts. We are talking about 1500 accounts worth of items to move under time pressure. And not only that, I had to perm them as well due to the changes imposed on bnet. From that point on no accounts were safe unless they were regularly played on permed characters. It was nothing to it but to do it. And I did it. And did it. Over and over again.

It was a job that never ended, and for every character bumped I could feel my soul being eaten bit by bit until nothing remained. In the end even my skin burst out in flames. I cursed the Coh, the Hoz, the Enigma and the Shako but little did it help me. I was beyond redemption, and despite all the love I had given them; the ungrateful items did not give a shit. I was alone and I was burning.

Had I come too close to the sun, melting my wings in the process, or was I actually licked by the flames of hell? I am currently convinced I was in hell, and I am not talking about act IV in the game. I have stood face to face with the real Diablo, desperately withstanding the hellfire, and it has marked me for the rest of my life.

Although I no longer labour in hell; my mind and body will never recover from the experience I had there. Allergy to electricity. Screen dermatitis. Mouse arm. Like the wanderer I must now hide my appearance and stagger towards a dark future.

In the roaring wind he called,
Thundering from higher ground,
Sundering the world with sound,
To bring the beast that legend told,
Would come and make his dream unfold.

Over rolling waves and fleeting tide,
Heralded by her callers plead,
Arrival of the stygian steed,
Grazing cliff with gruesome hide,
Shrieking as she rises high,
Monstrous towards the sky,
To halt before her kneeling guide,
Where sea and battered rocks collide.

A waning moon enchants the scene,
Its pale light paints a vivid dream,
Man and beast in silent sermon,
Waiting for their bond to form,
Within the eye of the surrounding storm.

Finally, as if in reply,
A gust of wind comes brushing by,
And the fleeting moments in the eye,
That felt like aeons for a while,
Are lost into the stormy wild,
That ravages both earth and sky,
Engulfing the embarking ride,
A summoned demon in its pride,
With summoner installed up high,
On a throne of horns and scales,
As king and ruler over seas and gales.

Through a rising ominous wave,
Then down into the watery grave,
Descends the master and his slave,
Past jagged rocks and horned reefs,
Whose ancient carvings form reliefs,
That brings to life the lost motifs,
Of things that never roamed the sea,
And never knew that they would be,
Fading into obscurity,
Beneath rolling waves and stormy skies,
With none to see their crumbling guise,
Save the one that past them dives,
Guided by the withered sights,
Of godly kings and perfect knights,
That in the eerie dying light.
Assume the shape of ghastly wights.

Pointing it out to these people does not help. They just can’t do it properly. It is not in their genes. What we are truly dealing with here are people with genes that have survived in a completely unaltered and intact state since archaic times. What we are looking at are people that just as well could have walked this earth 100,000 or possibly as much as 500,000 years ago.

It is quite mindboggling that there are archaic humans walking among us today and all the more so because they are unknown to science even though the planet abounds with them. Vast resources of information just waiting to be tapped into. A leap in our understanding of the past just waiting to happen.

Actually it does not take a scientist to deduce the life style of primitive man by observing the speciments in question. Clearly, primitive man did not wash what few clothes he was wearing; did not reside in a permanent dwelling; did not amass material belongings for which he cared and did not cook or store his food. When clothes and place of residence no longer were fit for their purpose they were discarded and replaced and when food was aquired or stumbled upon it was eaten straight away without ritualistic processing, artful presentation or moderation.

Pierce through steel and flesh and bone,
Pierce the heart that’s made of stone.

The Cloud of Passing
With ghostly strands the bow was strung,
An eerie bend, a cursed form,
Harbinger of the raging storm,
An instrument from which was sprung,
A song that through the air was sung:

Reach the sky, blot out the sun,
Fall to earth and then be gone.

The Light of Lasting
With angel hair the bow was strung,
A splendid; golden; wondrous arch,
That blazed like fire in the dark,
An instrument from which was sprung,
A song that through the air was sung:

Burn in awe before the sight,
Of brilliant sun rays in their flight.

Desert Tomb
The ancient glyphs upon the wall, when read aloud they light the hall, where eternal kings stand grim and tall.

Ghost Lights
All sailors fear the eerie light, that dance along the coast at night.

Winter Tower
The tower rises towards the skies, stone by stone of snow and ice.

Dead Halls
No sound, no movement, not even time, trouble these halls of my troubled rhyme.

Buried City
Where a wondrous city used to stand, there now is naught but desert sand.

Gloomy Castle
Once from towers banners flew, in wind which from the heaven drew, a splendour that is now all gloom.

Whispering Keep
The wind that blows through broken walls, it lends its voice to empty halls.

Ghoul’s Lair
The ghouls they gather here, in a dark and slimy lair. No sun to burn their skin, as pale as it is thin.

Witch House
In these woods there’s sorcerery, bringing life to stone and tree.

Ice Cavern
A gleaming act of bewildered ice, a frozen enchanted paradise.

Ancient Tunnels
Illuminated by the mineral ores, the tunnels run deeper in their endless course.

Crumbled Mine
Echoes of many a mattock travel, from a past that nobody wants to unravel.

Dragon’s Lair
Gleaming scales or is it gold? The truth is only for the bold.

Mountain Tomb
Solemn features and eyes so cold, such is the visage of the kings of old.

Magis Keep
The magi still resides within, though haggard, cursed and bony thin.

Hollow Stone
In hollow stone out on the fields, the victor shall be the one that yields.

Hydra’s Mark
This stone it marks a cursed domain, where life is blackened by disdain.

Misty Stones
Up from the ground rise stony fingers, as if reaching for the mist that lingers.

Troll Cave
Hearth of stone, cauldron of copper, boiling humans and trolls making supper.

Forest Mound
The trees they grow upon a mound, whose nourishment is far from sound.

Forest Tower
Green and growing, wiry and high, the tower looks down on all who pass by.

Haunted Castle
The past of this castle is horribly engraved, in the vaults down below where no souls could be saved.

Fallen Stones
Mossy and fallen, these stones are a trait, of times that are gone and with them all the faith.

Moon Cave
When moonlight hits the polished wall and dance along the marble hall, the magic will roam free for all.

Demon’s Tomb
Locked in the chains of an arcane spell, the demon longs for the flames of hell.

Sun Henge
With the path of the sun the stones are aligned, marking the perpetual passing of time.

Swamp Crypt
Overgrown by many a marvelous vine, the crypt is of death an outspoken sign.

Forest Circle
In the shadows of the stones, dance elven folk with dead man’s bones.

Bone Hoard
Bones upon bones so white and serene, the rats since long have eaten them clean.

Catacombs
Below the sand in an endless maze, spectres and wights along corridors chase.

Frozen Keep
A creaking and cracking symphony, is haunting the frozen gallery.

Seer’s Tower
Every year the tower sinks, deeper down the swamp that stinks.

Weeping Stones
Where the wind and waves hit land, these weeping stones they make their stand.

Dark Lair
In the darkness a malice dwells, in filth and rot and acrid smells.

Winter Tower
Clad in snow and frozen tears, the tower endures the endless years.

Burial Mound
Since long forgotten king here lies, empty sockets where once were eyes and might revealed by golden prize.

Pyramids of Mesa
Aligned with the stars in the distant sky, a mystery from a time gone by.

Frost Circle
Grim and frostbitten stones here stand, marring the frozen northern land.

Water Mill
As the water flows, the wheel moves around, to spin is the fate to which it is bound.

Fallen Pillars
Where once stood mighty palaces and towers, there now is ruin where nothing flowers.

Desert Temple
The sanctity of the ancient shrine, has of late been in decline.

Traveler’s Well
In many a traveler’s dream, this blessed well it gleams.

Monolith
The carvings speak of blood red seas, rising above all lands and trees.

Sand Stone
As old as the sand that stretches out, the tower still stands so proud and stout.

Abandoned Fortress
Though desolate and sought by none, the towers still glow in the heavenly sun.

Within
I seek not gold that glitters, nor pleasures of the flesh,
To free the mind or save the soul, those are not my quests,
I live not in the hope of rememberance and glory,
Wish not for the world to immortalize my story,
I dwell not in the moment, or on that which is to come,
The rythm of my melody, it needs no worldly drum,
I move in trance to music that never stirs the air,
Performed by an orquestra which simply is not there,
I behold such sights of wonder as I open up my eyes:
Fire, purple, azure, but the colours are all lies,
The world is just a mirror, and I am just a man,
Who stood before a chasm that no mind could ever span,
To venture any further, I had to take the fall,
Into that gaping abyss which lurks within us all.

Old and sullen stands the sentry,
In a pluming gruesome haze,
With none to dare an entry,
Save the wind that haunts the waste.

Lucidity
The endless vines from a great below,
Sent coursing through my ruined halls,
In fading light I watch them grow,
Their patient climbing over crumbling walls,
As centuries are passing by,
For a cursed ghost am I.

Celestial recall
Tales from star glass memories,
Of burning gods in blinding prime,
Light from aeons passed,
The heaven holds their flames no more,
A splendour lost in time.

Unsheathed
Bathe me in the blood of beasts,
Dance me through the night,
Watch the hunger as I feast,
My ravenous delight.

Moon passage
The pale shall be my shephard,
His light my binding leash,
But darkness that surrounds me,
The shadows of the trees,
They break the bond with heaven,
Should I drift within their reach.

Forest toccata
In deepest woods a whisper, where no path finds it way,
Realm of olden tree trunks; towering, worn and gray,
Each pond is there so silent, with water black as night,
The moss is ever glowing, in silverly delight,
The whisper which is heard there, it echoes endlessly,
Uttered for the reason, to dance from tree to tree.

Twilight serenade
Moonlit surface of calmest sea,
Whisper of nightly breeze,
Elusive elven dance on misty meadow,
Fragrance of opiatic plumes.