Felkin was walking in a desolate damp land. There were dead trees throughout and the ground was but dark soil and puddles of mud. He walked and walked, dragging an extended segmented sword behind him. The sun was hot and was high in the sky, but it was dim and the sky looked murky.
The land was bathed in a muted yellow, and he slowly limped aimlessly. His mouth was dry and his stomach empty. His eyes glazed as he kept walking. His head was facing downwards and he did not even look on where he was going. It was quiet and no creature made a sound. This continued for an unknown amount of time, but he looked up and the sky was shrouded in a dark orange hue.
A single red shape, the moon lay crimson in the sky! It seemed larger and closer than the moon ever had before! He was brought to his knees by the sight, and an inhuman fear and admiration swept over him! Black tendrils crept over the sky, and figures were perceptible, just beyond imagination and comprehension.
He fell over forwards and went face first into the ground. He summoned his strength and began slowly crawling. He soon came upon an enclosure of dead trees forming a small grove. He crawled slowly, the intensity of the forces that he felt bearing down upon him. He grabbed the trunk of the tree and used it to pull himself inside. He crawled into the small stone ruin within the enclosure and stopped. He could no longer feel the overwhelming presence he felt moments ago. Then he lost consciousness.