Big Weasel, the tyrannical ruler of the Levitus, slouches on his throne, his mood foul but somewhat brightened by the sight of gifts - a wearisome group of lizard traders adorned in fine silks proceed toward him through the hall with their annual tribute of biscuits, ham and gold - Big Weasel's favourites. Big Weasel's entourage looks on with stern approval.
In a cavern lined with bioluminescent fungi glowing lime green, the council of owls wear jeweled crowns that glimmer with rubies, their wings folded behind their backs. Dust coats the stone table, a glowing orb inscribed with “Artificial Analysis” hovers above the table illuminating the owls with its red pulsating light. Behind them, a waterfall falls upward into a ceiling that opens onto stars - a child looks down in wonder from above at what he has stumbled across.
A dragon of molten silver coils around a lighthouse. The storming sea below crashes upward in frozen stillness, as though caught mid-motion. The dragon’s molten eyes drip tears of ice. On the horizon, two suns set next to each other, casting orange light on one side of the tower and blue on the other. A cloaked traveler carries an ancient weapon in his left hand and a scroll in his right.
At dawn, a winged griffin lands on a mossy cliff above a jade sea beside a runed obelisk; floating isles drift under golden sunbeams, with a bit of sea spray and glowing runes.
