Ruins of Karnstein

It was a bad family, and here its bloodstained annals were written, he continued. It is hard that they should, after death, continue to plague the human race with their atrocious lusts. Palatial grandeur in ruins, its decrepit majesty poised in the liminal space between decay and beauty. A haunting memory of all-consuming desire: the rich, earthy depth of oud, vetiver, and moss, grounded in the untamed wilds of the forest, echoing the ancient stones that remain.