Erindors tome.

[Yeorl Oakenleaf]

I'm sure we've all heard of the mad prophet Erindor and his book of.. intrigues.

There once lived a Flame elf named Erindor, one of the hideous and savage people who lurk within the borders of the sundered lands ever at war with their foul kin. The beings of Nactor of course have always been mysterious and savage and it is rumored that a great empire in the early days of man was once seated here - of course we could fill a whole book with all of the rumored empires and kingdoms that once resided upon Darasum.
One day the King of Kotepia was holding court in the middle of a gale and a mad man broke through the doors into his hall, the man was a flame elf and no one knew how to react he was drenched from the rain and bleeding out of thousands of intricate cuts all across his body. Each seeming an ancient language of sorts - one formed of hieroglyphics.
All in the kings court could tell that the man was mad, he approached the throne and since everyone was too shocked not a single person moved to stop him.
"Your highness, I bring before you my work." He boomed laughing joyfully as if he had just seen something quite hilarious.
"What is the meaning of this?!~" Demanded the good King, equally as confused as everyone.
The elf lay a book at the feet of the King, a book made out of the flesh of numerous beings - well at least it appeared to be flesh but what had once wore that was untraceable. The title was written in what appeared to be cracking and dried, red "ink". "Impartial death."
The King shocked at the grotesque manner of the book ordered the crazed elf seized at once, but no one moved, so the King was forced to pick the tome up and examine it.
Leafing through the pages the King threw the book away instantly, he spoke not of what he saw and calmly ordered the man out of his court. This time, seeing the pure empty glare the King was giving - they composed themselves and the guards escorted him out.
It is said and rumoured, that what the king had read was the book of the dread and that the prophecy of that elf were passed out to numerous places all across Darasum. They were the readings of the ender, the watcher in the darkness, the Dread Father himself. What the King had gazed upon were words not meant for the minds of men, fortunately a soothsayer calmed his mind and made him forget.. But no one knows what happened to the prophet or his madness. Could his book be worshiped in secret by the insane, hoping to one day welcome the Dread back into our world? Not one can say.