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Cyril Darkcloud · 10-09-2002, 10:32 PM

Dismal is this realm.
And cheerless.

Blades of a tall sharp-bladed grass grow in thick, defiant clusters out of the gray and arid dirt of this valley – growing most heavily where the soil is poorest. Other than the dark and defiant green of these blades the stones and dirt of this valley are little more than a relentless array of dusky gray colors that only receive the warming light of the sun with reluctance. The sun does shine now over this expanse along which so many have fallen dead but so relentless have the scavengers been that not even a handful of bleaching bones remains to reflect its light. Indeed, despite the pale blue and yellow sun of the morning sky, if one were to look solely at the ground in this place he would think that the day has passed far along into dusk. Most dismal and cheerless of all, however, are the great and silent ruins in the center of the vale. No sunlight seems strong enough to brighten the dead black stones of the fallen tower and the stagnant water of what had once been its moat is choked with the dust of crushed rock and the strange blood of the creatures that perished in the desperate battle against the Modding Mage. Here even the warming light of the sun seems hesitant and cautious and nothing that still lives in this harsh and cheerless land draws near to these great slabs of broken stone and this death-filled water, nothing save the grass which grows here with a greater lushness than anywhere else within the vale. And the only movement near these ruins is the swaying of this grass in the swift and restless winds which sweep along the vale out of the storm clouds of the distant mountains.

The mountains that ring this land are jagged and steep and filled with the shrieking rush of violent winds and the steady drumbeat of clapping thunder. Dark and heavy storm clouds press upon the peaks with a grim anger. What had once been roads along which armies and adventuring bands might move have been washed away by the relentless falling of rain which has gathered into streams that have flooded the cave warrens in the gorges here. Owls of a dusky gray colored plumage fly boldly within these mountains, somehow able to move easily within the violent air of these storms that have come here from very distant skies. There is a deep gorge within these mountains whose walls are so steep that sections of its floor have never seen the sun. The winds move with a shrieking violence here and the only light is that of the blinding bursts of lightning that explode from the clashing thunder clouds. Here beneath the boulders of a collapsed cliff face a terrible Hunger waits to feed once more on power and life .....

The Lord of the Forums - Aftermath: A Restless Hunger

[ 10-22-2002, 10:31 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

10-09-2002, 10:32 PM	#1
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	Dismal is this realm. And cheerless. Blades of a tall sharp-bladed grass grow in thick, defiant clusters out of the gray and arid dirt of this valley – growing most heavily where the soil is poorest. Other than the dark and defiant green of these blades the stones and dirt of this valley are little more than a relentless array of dusky gray colors that only receive the warming light of the sun with reluctance. The sun does shine now over this expanse along which so many have fallen dead but so relentless have the scavengers been that not even a handful of bleaching bones remains to reflect its light. Indeed, despite the pale blue and yellow sun of the morning sky, if one were to look solely at the ground in this place he would think that the day has passed far along into dusk. Most dismal and cheerless of all, however, are the great and silent ruins in the center of the vale. No sunlight seems strong enough to brighten the dead black stones of the fallen tower and the stagnant water of what had once been its moat is choked with the dust of crushed rock and the strange blood of the creatures that perished in the desperate battle against the Modding Mage. Here even the warming light of the sun seems hesitant and cautious and nothing that still lives in this harsh and cheerless land draws near to these great slabs of broken stone and this death-filled water, nothing save the grass which grows here with a greater lushness than anywhere else within the vale. And the only movement near these ruins is the swaying of this grass in the swift and restless winds which sweep along the vale out of the storm clouds of the distant mountains. The mountains that ring this land are jagged and steep and filled with the shrieking rush of violent winds and the steady drumbeat of clapping thunder. Dark and heavy storm clouds press upon the peaks with a grim anger. What had once been roads along which armies and adventuring bands might move have been washed away by the relentless falling of rain which has gathered into streams that have flooded the cave warrens in the gorges here. Owls of a dusky gray colored plumage fly boldly within these mountains, somehow able to move easily within the violent air of these storms that have come here from very distant skies. There is a deep gorge within these mountains whose walls are so steep that sections of its floor have never seen the sun. The winds move with a shrieking violence here and the only light is that of the blinding bursts of lightning that explode from the clashing thunder clouds. Here beneath the boulders of a collapsed cliff face a terrible Hunger waits to feed once more on power and life ..... The Lord of the Forums - Aftermath: A Restless Hunger [ 10-22-2002, 10:31 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]