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 Valle Delle Rotture Dell'Angelo Description

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Clint M.
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PostSubject: Valle Delle Rotture Dell'Angelo Description   Sat Feb 23, 2008 6:59 am

A world of perfection. A world within a world, so unique and seperated that it is thought the origin to be a place none could even fathom. From the plains and forests around it arose at first a single peak, visible for miles and miles around. An ominous, yet transfixing sight that can capture even the gaze of royalty.

Gentle, rolling hills covered with prairie grasses, their subtle curves shooting upward to turn to forests clinging to the sides of an ever-growing mountainside. Hundreds--perhaps even thousands--of trees dig into the soil below; spruces, pines, oaks, redwoods. Multitudes of wildlife dwell here, beginning with the smallest of microorganisms to beasts not so very normal. This wonderous, ever-changing sight stretches off to both sides into the distance; ends of a mountain range draped in a circular pattern upon the surface of the earth.

As the eyes of the mystified traveler carry themselves upward peaks and outcroppings begin to emerge, like the fiberous tendrils of some mighty beast reaching for the next victim of awe and wonder to draw them into its maw. And it is in this maw that the true paradise resides. In this center of these "wings" there lies a gap, miles wide, opening into an even more majestic sight: a valley with a stream protruding through the center and continuing to weave its length through the land, seperating and curling oddly around the sides of the mountain ranges as well as proceeding forward across the plaines. A natural bridge of stone leads from these to the pathway into the valley. Once inside, a meadow is revealed, covered with various fruit trees and wildflowers of all kinds, scattered with butterflies and other insects, as well as those that prey upon them. The river then widens into a lake of untold beauty--shimmering in the sunlight as if made of glass, clearer and smoother than any glassblower could imagine. Fish abound here, fleeting shadows beneath the waters.

And behind this lies the true majesty of the world within a world--Picco del Drago, the Dragon's Peak. It rises from the very center of the range, a culmination of the jagged peaks that tear at the sky from all directions once within, their icy tops ominous and forbidding. All of these deadly beauties are dwarfed by this centerpiece. It rises dominantly above them all, curled inward and watching over the valley below as if a guardian, the only deformity two craters at the crest that could resemble eyes if one were to get too lost in the void of sinful appreciation. A sight to behold, indeed, and if one were to look closer at the features, the faintest silouette could be seen within the depths--jagged overhangs and a large cave retreating back into the depths. A mouth, perhaps? As the sun sets and rises, from seemingly within this retreat of unimaginable magnitude, mist rolls from the caves and peaks like dragonfire, coating the inner valley in a trully mystical embodiment of secret and legend.

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