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Erebus 166 Some Artwork of my Souls wyvern





and just a small fraction of his story. I have another piece of artwork coming which displays the outside of his home. the abandoned monistary.

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The quite air and empty stairways were an easy give away that this place was long forgotten, and yet despite the passage of time the archetecture had endured. Erebus had circled past the cliff face many times already. His white scales shimmerering as snow as the light began to fade on another longing day of empty searching. and after his final pass by he had decided the area seemed safe and stable enough to land on a small balcony outcropping. As he slowly glided in towards his destinationt the true magesty of the large monistary became all the more real to him. The cliff face itself was daunting in size, and yet the monistary had conqured it, its very foundations digging into the verticall masses of rock, and bending it to its will. Gently, Steadily the white wyvern narrowed in, being cautious that perhaps the stability of the structure was less than it seemed, but as he touched his clawed legs to the floor of the balcony all doubt was washed away. It was quite here. Calm. And oddly peacefull for an abandoned structure of its size. Peering in throught the doorway erebus was certain that this place was not one that had been disturbed for many years, the stories of what had happened or how it became the lonely palace it was now locked away within the stone and clay walls, never to be told. This. This was the place. Ever since he had become this, he had found no source of comfort or true acceptance amoung dragons or humans alike, but this place. Its echoing halls called to him, simply another figure of creation calling for a troubled soul. This. This would be his home.