Re: Continuing about the age of Ascendant
Battles rage in the south.
An innocent godling falls. Helheim's deathly black horses make no sound, nor the Hanged Kings yell shouts of triumph, but are quiet as the grave.
Brave warriors with shining swords scream their defiance, some clad in the first masterworks of chainmail, some wearing only shirts of their own manly, manly chest hair. Death spares neither.
In the north, empires rise.
A mysterious race of giants calls out for mercy, for help. Their children starve, wanting, wanting. So close to a land of magic and plenty, they sailed the seas and left their lands, for what? To be overwhelmed and slain by howling savages bearing fire and steel. They are truly cursed. Crom smiles.
The apes cry for vengeance for their lost dead, but their bright lord stays his hand. For how long, and at what price?
In the east, a mighty ocean power comes into its own, opposed by none.
The aboleths seethe from their oceans in the west and covet the lands of the lizard people with their rich soil and bright gold. The lizards lounge in the searing rays of their unnatural bright sun, suspecting much but too happy and fat to bestir themselves.
A bloody, ominous moon rises over the summer skies in the land of Ascendant.
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