The Spirit of the Lost Tales

After the clouds of dust have trickled down and after the Lizard King has broken through, there were just five mad freaks remaining in the heat. Somewhere in the distance was a lonesome whistle blowing. They stood weirdly in front of the Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands. She, with her mercury mouth and her voice like chimes, predicted them to save the forgotten values of subterranean art. She told them to call themselves The Spirit of the Lost Tales. After that she handed everyone a piece of her soul. Then she disappeared immediately and the young band stood there facing the desert. They jumped upon a train bound for glory and rushed towards the golden sundown, which shined like Tequila in the sun, into the wild cathedral night.