An old man stumbles into town, bent upon a tree branch, trying desperately to gain his footing. He makes a shambling line to the largest aggregate of people he can find and annonces himself.
" Ho. I am Teldal Nortrace, The sage of the northern reaches. I come with news of a great plague. Nay, a pestilence than feasts upon the land and those who dwell upon it. I wish to say that it was not so, but the old prphecy of the elves is true, a master of the darkest art, a being of purest balck has risen from the grave and wreaks havok upon the fair Northern folk of Bydwine. I ask favor, good folk, aid my people. I have scrawled a map of birch barch and my own blood, for my return is...."
Having that said, he collapses in a heap upon the ground with naught but a scroll in his unfurled hand.
A shadow crosses the land
Moderator: Admin
-
promethean