Jump to content

[Prophecy] Awakening


TheWhiteWolf
 Share

Recommended Posts

Prophecy I: Awakening
 

qBbv0K3VtV12p4li4ox-wtJUni4O-NW04jijZGrMFf4i8wkGu8AvxSWWcwabOEe_oDFnuVIjkIc2koLK5mAWAsaCsxhKCO8EdYfTtLTGP2mHUmKUI8aRqB7YUjzZEslDFzgYbEkZ
 

Spoiler

This is a prophecy, as such only users with accepted Naztherak, Seer, Farseeing, or Vivification apps may experience it.

Thanks to Eden for helping write the Prophecy!

 

 

 


 

It was cold, oh so cold..
 

The North grew weary as that gelid blizzard drew its onslaught upon their stone walls, bashing and tearing down soldiers on the frontier.
 

Cold, they cried as the frost bit their fingers numb, yet a single soul was spared naught against its rage. It delivered the torment it so desired. Feasting upon the fallen.
 

Penance, it whispered as the landscape was littered by the damned and the dead. An empowered might now commencing its gait across the decrepit city it tore asunder from the inside out.
 

Dark, they yelled when their eyes could not see yet there were hundreds of lights that followed its path. Blood tainted banners flew about in flashes of blue and black, tattered and worn from battle.
 

Fear, they felt as ill news of misfortunes were carried amidst those howling winds. Their armies were discarded and weapons abandoned.
 

Victory, sought by crowns drenched in the blood of their own adversaries as the tandem danced in battle within the eye of the storm, letting their swords sing their crescendo.
 

It was cold, oh so cold. For the solace of the sun shone naught ‘pon the frigid calamity. And the last vestige of the dying light was accompanied by the laughter of a dead hungering god.
 

Link to post
Share on other sites

Varan would once again be snapped awake by the visions flooding into his mind. The 'Fenn covered in sweat, his breathing heavy as he was unable to actually form any words. Instead he would slowly drag himself to his feet, stumbling over to his weapons before making his way to the Keep of Fenn to warn the Prince! @Monkee

Link to post
Share on other sites

A mali'aheral stirred from her stupor, a hand brushing through her bangs as she laid it to rest upon her scarred forehead. Fear was naught in her gaze, instead there was a faint smile pressed upon her lips. And so the famed storyteller for the dead and damned would return once more, with a riveting tale to tell to her best audience.

Link to post
Share on other sites

 Share

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.



×
×
  • Create New...