Once, a mighty warrior married a girl. But death took her on their nuptial night. He stole into the bedroom in the form of a vile scorpion, its stinger raised and deadly. The warrior was saddened by his loss. So he picked up his Mighty sickle and attempted to claim her again. He failed. He was buried in a temple dedicated to him.
Now the temple was ruined. Its imposing faced was pockmarked and cracked. It lay in the middle of the Abyss. It stretched outwards and downwards, swirling motes of strange shadows swirling around it. This was the Temple and this was the final resting place of the Sickle of Destruction.