Post by Kalas Lith'ard on Mar 30, 2010 13:12:02 GMT -5
A dead land, a dying land; this desolate waste brought a shiver to Kalas' frame as she stood on a piece of a broken wall to survey the area. How dark, how forboding, how strangely hard to resist the pull of curiosity as she walked along her broken wall, hopping over the crumbled spaces as she went. But where should she go from here? That half-buried statue seemed like a good goal.
Perhaps, she mused as she picked her way among the sticks and stones, a ghost might come to steal her life away. So close to the Fissure, so close to Death, it seemed like a plausible idea, and brought another cold shiver down her spine. It was good she'd worn this extra wrap with the rest of her clothes; dead lands always seemed so cold.
Perhaps, she mused as she picked her way among the sticks and stones, a ghost might come to steal her life away. So close to the Fissure, so close to Death, it seemed like a plausible idea, and brought another cold shiver down her spine. It was good she'd worn this extra wrap with the rest of her clothes; dead lands always seemed so cold.