O Confused King, forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive the vultures that circle on high in the smoky red skies, waiting to descend upon eventual corpses. May their survival instincts not deter our hope to make it through this troubled and confusing land. May the winds sing in tune as we pass the many peaks we can surmount, and may the dischord pass above and beyond us, to those which are insurmountable but to thee, Great Confused King.

Dust and gravel is everywhere here in this land, and a thick smog lies just above the horizon. It forms an amorphous blur where the smoky red skies meet with the gravelly auburn ground which descends to narrow valleys and their rivers between each great peak. The porous needle peaks mount the sky as well, acting as beacons on our journey, they stand as tall lightless lamps in a family of stouter mountain bretheren - cratered and deformed, they point to the heavens with a solemn dignity, an assortment of bird species swoop and form around their many coves and crevaces, and form stark silhouettes in the twilight smog.

The Confused King's Great Hall is as a lofty mausoleum, and perhaps it is more appropriately named a Great Tomb, for there are many in the royal lineage who now find their final resting place to be... in the deep, swelling mountain caverns beneath the floors of the royal chambers. The small creatures of the Burning Pyres light the Great Hall entrance both day and night, perpetual and unnerving in their duty.

We will go there, to this Great Monument to the Confused Living and the Confused Dead, and we will seek the advice of the Confused King. Though a thick red smog has penetrated both his skies and his mind eternally, there remains some pockets of knowledge to be found. Knowledge as rare and valuable as the gems that lie with the buried beneath his feet.more

released January 16, 2017

Synths - Jåshlýkk