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Hewn from the bleak rocks of Mhaldor's mountain, this circular platform is perfectly level and covered in neatly raked ripples of pale limestone gravel. Hovering in the sky like a second sun is a spellbinding globe of elemental white-fire. It radiates spectacular beams of light that serves to ignite the surrounding terrain in supernal brilliance. Beneath the magical light source are seven antique oval mirrors, their reflective surfaces facing the interior of the circular formation they are positioned in. These mirrors, in beautiful symbiosis with the globe of white-fire, cast a spectacular matrix of light that criss-crosses above the ground. The resulting shape forms a horizontal septagram which wavers as the lambency bounces between the seven surfaces. The light is of such glorious intensity that it is almost impossible to see the hidden writing on the frame of each mirror. Meticulously smeared in dried blood on each frame is one of the Seven Sins. A simple path of circular, obsidian stepping stones weaves slightly through the sentry of mirrors. To the south it connects with a beautiful glass pavilion, which has been brightened by residual light beams. To the north it leads right up to a humble entrance way leading directly into the heart of the mountain.
Every inch of this room is covered in the purest ivory-white limestone. Each slab has been so masterfully cut and laid that the cracks between them are only visible upon closer inspection. A glow globe fills the room with clear, crisp daylight. An astonishing conception occupies the majority of this circular room. Rising from the very bowls of the earth is a massive, transparent chalcedony arm. It ascends majestically skywards, the hand of the arm fusing with the ceiling of the locale to become one with the burden it has to bear. A narrow walkway around the arm has been occupied with various hindering objects, making manoeuvring to the room above a challenge. The artist took painstakingly long to carve the finest detail into the exhibit, the curving musculature and sinew breathing life into the earthen texture. At certain places bright red jasper shines through the transparent chalcedony, drawing a parallel to the veins of the living. Bracelets of Evil maxims encircle the entirety of the gleaming surface: "The Truths Are Your Answer To Strength And Power", "Persevere And Ascend Beyond Your Own Limitations", "Suffering and
Oppression Leads To A Higher State Of Living", daring the viewer to navigate the treacherous pathway around the forearm again, and again, and again, to digest the enlightened verbatim in its totality.
In Evil I Shall Trust.
Every inch of this cube-shaped room is covered in the purest, ivory-white limestone. Each slab has been so masterfully cut and laid that the cracks between them are only visible upon closer inspection. A muted pentagram of sanguine fire silently crackles against the ceiling, beaming down a pillar of luminescence on the focal piece. For occupying the room's exact centre is the kneeling statue of a tiny, undistinguished girl. Her legs are tugged underneath her, hands folded in her lap as she casts a resolute gaze towards the daemonic inspired heaven. The statue in itself shows no remarkable detail; no defined lines or textures except for the eyes. The narrowed eyes have been afforded meticulous attention by the artist, lacing the stony orbs with emotions of fierce determination, danger, and anger. Surrounding the girl in a protective circle are the empty, propped fullplates of seven Infernal Knights that gaze outwards, the coat of arms of Mhaldor proudly etched into the breast plates. Each Infernal Knight boldly holds within its grasp a letter forged from bloodsteel: 'S' in the first, 'T' in the second, 'R' in the third, 'E', 'N', 'G', 'T', 'H', in the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh respectively. Scattered haphazardly at the feet of each of the seven Infernal Knights are the disjointed fullplates of Paladins, the words 'Righteousness' mockingly scrawled in yellow graffiti across the breast plates, bemiring the pristine beauty that once resided in the iron.
Every inch of this room has been painted an abyssal black, the uniformity of the colour distorting the
architectural boundaries of the enclosed space. A tiny globe of light hangs in mid-air, providing just enough glow for the simple painting on the Northern wall to be highlighted. The painting depicts a niveous-skinned female human sitting at a lavishly decorated table of dark oak, various golden ornaments and dusty tomes scattered about her. The woman leans upon the table with her left arm, the Mark of the Twin 'II' counterpointed by appropriate use of crimson paint. Her chin rests nonchalantly in her left hand as she gazes downwards with bored chocolate eyes, whilst her right hand casually brings a glass of absinthe to her yawning maw. Forming an archway above the female depiction are the words in dove-grey, "So when does it End, huh?". Occupying the centre of the room is a charcoaled spear that smoulders weakly, the bright flame that ignited it long gone. Throughout the locale the sibilant mocking of succubi whispers repeatedly, "pointless", "pointlessss", "sooo pointlessss".