The Story of An Old Man

The mountain, veiled in the shroud of night, reverberated with eerie sounds that sent shivers down the spine of the uninitiated. 

The relentless howling of creatures beyond the veil of darkness seemed to be a titanic wolf, its voice resonating like a lament from another realm.

Intermittently, a thunderous roar pierced the night, echoing through the vast labyrinthine chambers of the mountain. 

It was the Minotaur, a monstrous denizen of the mountain, confined beneath its rocky prison by the indomitable power of the Seven Warlords.

Amidst these primal cries, the wind whispered its own eerie melody as it raced through the jagged peaks and twisted passages of Mount Parnassus. 

Its cutting sound sliced through the stillness, a haunting symphony that only those who had chosen to reside amidst the mountain's mysteries could truly call familiar.