Hall of Bone

     Two softly guttering torches lit the vast hall of bone. The ruddy light
glinted off the skull-paved floor; ten thousand empty eyes stared into it.
The throne of obsidian and bone rose between the torches, a great monolith of
night. Though the torches were near, no light touched it. Before the throne
lay a pedastal, short and squat, ringed with tiny skulls. Saphires and
emeralds graced each eyesocket, capturing the torchlight in a dance of pixie-
light.
     A great ruby two fists large was set on the pedestal, supported by gold
fingers. The stone was perfectly smooth and of roughly triangular shape.
From the dark recesses of the throne, a white hand reached out and lightly
touched the ruby. The stone throbbed, almost imperceptibly, under the hand.
It stirred in its slumber but could not waken.
     "Soon."
     The figure bent his thought to the Citadel. He felt it's every room, its
every corridor. Slowly, his thought reached the outer walls. There he stopped,
encountering the great battlefield beyond. With monstrous effort, he pushed
his thought beyond the walls, inching across the desert.
     There! Movement. Blood! It was here.
     The figure could not push further. With a deep sigh, he withdrew his
thought and bent it to the gemstone. He breathed deeply again and reclined
back into his throne.
     "Soon."

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Alduin dor Lammoth