The time of darkness has begun again.
The cold winds sweep out of the north, blowing snow and sleet
ahead of it, the outriders of the cold fingers of death
clutching at the throats of the unwary, the unprepared.
Crossing virgin snow through the Taiga, the warrioress
lifts a hand to shield her eyes against the blowing snow
oblivious to the shadows unseen and unheard in the snow
around her.
Tightening the grip on her bow, she continues onwards,
the message she carries safely tucked away in a traveling
pouch, the seal of the kingdom declaring its urgency.
Head down leaning into the blowing snow, unaware that as
she moves into the darkening day something even darker than
the approaching night now has her in its gaze.
Rising up behind her, the ice worm takes careful measure
of her, slipping along the top of the snow, freezing it as
it moves into a solid sheet of ice beneath it.
As the wind drops and the lady-warrior, a ranger by trade,
hears the tell-tale snap of ice in her wake, she immediately
whirls and comes face to face with the adversary, with icy
death.
A mother comforts a small child in the night, explaining away
the faint screams as the cry of the wolf, hunting in the
blizzard, but she knows the cold truth in her heart.
Dark times are again on the horizon and simple folk know
better than to try and rise up and challenge the creatures
that come with the snow.
Turning back the covers in her own bed, climbing in next
to her husband, exhausted from the days labours, she says
a silent prayer in the night. Hoping and praying - beseeching
whatever gods may be for a hero, someone who will come and
save them from the darkness as it rises.
Sometimes the simple kindnesses bestowed upon the common
people are enough to win their favour, answering a whispered
prayer as the snow howls in around the eaves, lifting up a
fallen comrade on the field of battle, researching the spell
or potion that will save the wife of the village magistrate,
miles from the heart of Vintermor and without hope other than
what heros may come.
This is the stuff of which reputations, livelihoods, legends
are made of.
o - Do you have what it takes to be a saviour to the people?
o - Do you have what it takes to rise up and slay the wicked?
o - Do you dream of victory in battle, to crush your
opposition and oppress the weak, to bend them to your will?
o - Do you lust for vengeance?
o - Do you crave power?
o - Which side of the coin do you pray will fall when
the toss comes?
Come find out if you have what it takes in the city of
Vintermor.
Tell me young hero, do you have what it takes?
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We are currently welcoming new players and staff.
Particularly PlotMasters, Dungeon Masters,
and players willing to run Player Run Plots to help advance
goals for themselves and their friends.
Having experienced a slowdown in the general RP and
PRP's that are being run on the game we want to take
this chance to offer new players the exciting opportunity
to come get your ideas out on the grid!
Please join us at winter.mushpark.com 3000
And check out our wiki at: http://taladan.ddns.net/wiki
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