NinjasLeadTheWay
05-03-2014, 03:27 AM
You smell the faint scent of the ocean.
You smell burning wood and flesh.
The world around you begins to dull in color, all of the vivid hues bleeding away to black, to grey, then to sea blue. Suddenly, colors rush back in and you are elsewhere. You stand upon a stone wall on the western side of a huge, dominating stone fortress. The great western sea stretches out before you. Upon the sea, line hundreds of ships. Some black and swarming with krolvin, others long warships with banners flying a white stork on a field of light blue.
Mikeke's eyes glaze over and blood drips from his nose. He mouths something unheard. (Yes, I saw myself.)
You hear a loud shout as armored soldiers rush through a courtyard beneath you, charging through a raised portcullis to engage in a swarm of krolvin! The banner of Fairport flaps wildly in the wind above you, the breeze stirring your hair.
You look down to the battle in the courtyard below, as the krolvin swarm in like a flood of blue ants. Their weapons gleam with blood, their eyes glisten under the moonlight. You see a young man among the imperial warriors, your son in all of his royal armored splendor. Some of the soldiers spot him and shout, "For Claybourne! For the Torren!" Their cries are short lived, as a huge krolvin with a red gauntlet rushes at your son, impaling him through the stomach with a jagged bone sword. You cry out, just as a boulder comes soaring into view, slamming into the stone wall next to you!
The air is filled with cries and shouting, and infused with the strong scent of blood, sweat and salt. Men shout all around you. Krolvin bark all around you. The great western sea is red with the blood of a thousand bloated corpses.
You smell burning wood and flesh.
The world around you begins to dull in color, all of the vivid hues bleeding away to black, to grey, then to sea blue. Suddenly, colors rush back in and you are elsewhere. You stand upon a stone wall on the western side of a huge, dominating stone fortress. The great western sea stretches out before you. Upon the sea, line hundreds of ships. Some black and swarming with krolvin, others long warships with banners flying a white stork on a field of light blue.
Mikeke's eyes glaze over and blood drips from his nose. He mouths something unheard. (Yes, I saw myself.)
You hear a loud shout as armored soldiers rush through a courtyard beneath you, charging through a raised portcullis to engage in a swarm of krolvin! The banner of Fairport flaps wildly in the wind above you, the breeze stirring your hair.
You look down to the battle in the courtyard below, as the krolvin swarm in like a flood of blue ants. Their weapons gleam with blood, their eyes glisten under the moonlight. You see a young man among the imperial warriors, your son in all of his royal armored splendor. Some of the soldiers spot him and shout, "For Claybourne! For the Torren!" Their cries are short lived, as a huge krolvin with a red gauntlet rushes at your son, impaling him through the stomach with a jagged bone sword. You cry out, just as a boulder comes soaring into view, slamming into the stone wall next to you!
The air is filled with cries and shouting, and infused with the strong scent of blood, sweat and salt. Men shout all around you. Krolvin bark all around you. The great western sea is red with the blood of a thousand bloated corpses.