Lost City of the Falcon Men: Prologue

"How long has it been? How many centuries, nay eons, have passed me by? How many champions have I claimed, only to have die and burn like so much paper?

I can recall the last time I walked. I remember the warm sun on my face, the wind carrying me aloft. I remember those days, of fire and blood and conquest. Once I was many, once I was great. But even this was but a shadow of what I am, who I am. They broke me, cast me aside, thinking I was gone, or would be gone. But I have known this fate before and I remained then, as now. I still remain, I still live, even as those pretenders prance about, claiming titles which are mine by right and conquest.

They have forgotten me. The world has forgotten me. But soon they will remember.

HEAR ME, MY SUBJECTS!

Know that this war you wage are not in vain. Know that this meaningless battle for control must end. Will end. Let all nations howl with despair, for I shall return."

The king pounded upon his throne of wood and metal, the clang of his armored hand echoing through the cavern. His people shouted, chanted, their weapons raised into the air in celebration and admiration. And the king looked upon his new kingdom of darkness and stone, as he had looked upon so many kingdoms of old. And somewhere in his chest, very near his heart he reckoned, he felt a rising heat.