Sunwithered King

THE WILDS

A petty king of the southern reaches who watched the Vaultstar dim a shade each year and decreed, royally, that it would not. He had himself bound in gold and salt to outlast the fading light, and so he has — a withered kinglet stumping through his own dried demesne, crown fused to scalp, still commanding the sun to attend him. The sun watched. It did nothing.