Entry 0: Command the Fools Idol

The birth wheel, when turned, shifts the exact moment. The exact moment is when I succumbs to WE, but to understand the I in infinity we much search the realm for falseness and bare the world as it bares us.

Mortal men: faith renewed, it leaped with joy till sundered. Legions arose in floods and danced with steel. Do they taste their metal or do they test their mettle?

Immoral men: feathered with uncertainty to fettered with clemency. They break the world destined by gods till the gods break themselves. Who is worse, the breaker of gods or gods that can be broken?

First contact was met with roars and wings. They count their age by shouting at time and how ever long it takes for their echo to return is their age on the mortal plane. The mending of time is most important in this moment. Who was the broken men that crossed broken seas? They bore their sigil like a flame: the world survives off living fiction.

Listen to the wheel. It turns as if rusted. The moment it was found it began to decay and soon it will be as low as flesh. Listen to liberty. It bellows its death knell, it waxes lyrically till the moons waxes literally. Write of liberty. Freedom flows from ink to paper best when the pen runs dry. Speak to liberty. It ask questions with out answers till you learn the world and its voice.

The fools idols bless the mundane. Be weary of your existence for it is weary of you. It is ordered by the top lineage, the eighth cursed, the ninth addition. The ways are mythical, the paths are laced with lies. Remember the fools idols. Remember with out prayer, they challenge the ways and paths. They are jealous of mortal power, to be able to become them insults them. To be able to lead them frightens them.

Their eyes are colored Green for liars. Blue for deceit. Brown for lust. Red for hatred.

All four will be the death of death. All four means time has ran out. All four will enlighten the fool till he becomes an idol himself.