Bronnblackwater, 44

Check it out; Words! Somewhere out there, amidst the flotsam of banal cookie-cutter clones and miserably misshapen cliche-amalgams, there is someone of unique quality - someone of worldly experience and esoteric enlightenment, possessing a vast array of skills, wit, mystery, and mettle - and it is this person I must find. She's at home at a country hearth, atop a scholar's tower, under a slummy city underpass, amidst a palace ballroom, or upon a battlefield. She will be sultry yet shrewd, brazen yet honorable, as kind as a kiss on a summer breeze yet fierce as the gales from a hurricane: a Maiden, Mother, and Crone. For, it is known, she will be my companion, my confidant, and my queen.
As of now, apart, we are both great, but less than perfect. Together, there will be nothing we cannot do, for from the fires of our passion we will forge an army of magnificent Uber-mensch, marching forth while the world trembles beneath our feet! It is known. Until then, I`ll be wearing wolf pelts, silver robes, and a horned helm. I stand atop the summit of a red mountain next to a gray stone dais, upon which is a hefty leather-bound tome, within which I transcribe the final word of power with a black raven`s feather. Just then, the sky splits with electric blue, showing ever briefly the silhouettes of colossal horizon-borne beasts, quickly followed by darkness and roaring peels of thunder. Under the chaotic din, below me, wild-haired and lusty harlots with ridiculously disproportionate Frank-Frazetta style chest-to-waist ratios grasp at my ankles and gasp out their siren-song of ecstasy, begging for the merest touch of the mighty energy ebbing forth from me. I kick them aside, knowing too well the hollow rewards and draining vampirism offered from the kiss of the succubi, and step to the precipice, holding aloft in one hand the Hero`s Tale and my blood-crimsoned battle-axe in the other, as I challenge the heavens, crying into the maelstrom above, "BEHOLD! EXCELSIOR!" The King of Cleveland