Nestled deep within the tall, black mountains to the south of Adela, there was a cave. It had a small entrance, barely more than a hole in the ground. This hole in the ground led to a pocket of space tall enough for the small and those of average height to stand comfortably, but the tall would find their heads scraping the black rock of the ceiling. Past this pocket was a tunnel, not wide enough for most to squeeze their shoulders through. It was cool and dark inside, as the sun never seemed to shine directly upon it, and it was nestled among trees and bushes, almost hidden by the green that grew around it. There was a game trail leading to the cave, but that had not been trod by any beast for the past few seasons. And yet, smoke rose from the hole and into the air and past the canopy of the pines towards the sky.
For the cave, despite its remoteness and hidden nature had a single inhabitant. A man, of sorts, hunched over a small and flickering fire that was just bright enough to turn the cave from a realm of darkness into a room of shadow. This man was dressed oddly, wearing a wooden mask that was carved to resemble a skull, painted black and white, and a set of robes that were long and trailed behind his body in patches of black and gray.
The mask had been pushed up just far enough to reveal his mouth, which was tearing chunks of flesh from a barely-cooked rabbit. The teeth were sharp, in the way that pieces of broken slate and shingle are sharp, and clustered close together. These teeth bit and tore at the roasted flesh, causing bursts of "juice" (fat and blood and other things) to dribble down the pale chin as the mouth chewed and chomped. He clutched the rabbit in hands with long, spidery fingers, thin with long, cracked nails at the end and prominent knuckles and joints. The hands were delicate, yet firm in their grip...
"Someone approaches..."
The whisper came to his ear, and his alone, and the strange man turned to face the entrance, and waited a few moments. Someone was coming up the game trail, someone was approaching his home. Did they hunt him, still, the children of the servants he had tried to raise in the south? Was this some new threat? A dragon? A wizard or mage who wanted to keep the mountain to themselves? Or, worst of all, an angry bear? He waited to speak until whatever came was just outside the hole...
"Who dares approach the lair of The Magnificent and Mystical Emperor Moebius, First of His Name?! IDENTIFY YOURSELF! I smell your blood and sweat, stranger! I hear the crunching of dirt and sticks and pine needles beneath your feet! I have been told of your coming by the dead, whose eyes see ALL that the living wish to hide! SPEAK! SPEAK or I shall drink your blood and roast you upon the fire to fill my belly! Or slay you and deny you the dreaming sleep of true death!"