The Gods were at war. The skies were streaked with flame, as the
resultant rain struck heavily on the streets of Garathorm. The people knew
little of the Gods quarreling, and their dreams were plagued with thoughts
of what was to come. They massed together, in hopes of surviving the
nightmares of the Gods madness.
The fires raged in the heavans, as the clouds hung low over Garathorm.
The people came out of their homes, wondering about the sudden calm.
They looked over the horizon and saw the reason the Gods had stopped
their madness. A great darkness encompassed the sky to the south. The
blackness devoured everything in its path. It became a great threat to
all of Garathorm, and even to the Gods themselves.
The "ShadowWind", as they called it, approached quickly. It consumed
everything it touched. Even the Gods could not protect themselves from the
darkness. When it was over, those that we're left cried to the heavens for
protection. The prayers went unanswered, as the Gods, those that were left,
were too weak to reply. What power they had, they had to use to rebuild.
Those that were left, man and God, restored what they could, and made new
what they could not.
Welcome to the age of the ShadowWind...
If you would like to participate in playtesting our mud, please come to
mud.shadowwind.org 9999.
Thanks for any assistance.
--
Dez.
void signature () {
printf ("Praise not the day until evening has come; a woman\n"
"until she is burnt; a sword until it is tried; a maiden until\n"
"she is married; ice until it has been crossed; beer until it\n"
"has been drunk. -- Viking Proverb\n");
}
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