Excerpt: The Stone of Ynngar

The moons rose over the baked and crusted earth like a mother shielding its wounded offspring. Scattered everywhere were the petrified remains of long-dead jungles. Even in death, the trees made themselves useful as abodes for a menagerie of insects and other such winged creatures, some unknown in any bestiary or tome.
In places where once flowed brine lakes, lay the preserved corpses of millions of fish and fowl, as well as the bodies of any foolish scavenger who would peck at the salt encrusted flesh. Mounds of rotting Xofs and Yohts putrefied in the suns leaving naught but bleached bones. Over head flew giant schools Ractocs, their gray wings in numbers so great, that at a glance, they resembled storm clouds.
Scattered about the open, desolate plain, any observer would notice large, rotund mounds, under which slept great brown leather-skinned Kroaks, slumbering away the centuries until the dismal ground was kissed by the heavenly wonder of rain. These creatures were among the few that remembered when this plain was more than a wretched, inhospitable wasteland.
The beasts made their silent songs across the scorched land. Nothing ruled except for the musk of decay, and the stillness of the air.
Standing high like a thunderhead among the broken trees and Kroak mounds and petrified skeletons was a black and twisted structure. It had been beautiful at one point in its history, but eons of soot and mud and erosion had had their way with it. Now, it lay as a deformed skeleton half submerged in the bare dirt. Where once light and music echoed without end from crystal halls, there existed only the rasp of rusted metal on rusted metal.