by elonweis » Thu Sep 22, 2011 7:46 am
The sun rises on a fog-shrouded morning. There shouldn't have been fog to begin with. It fails to burn off by late morning and the more superstitious of the locals have retreated to the safety of their homes. Something hangs in the air, a malaise and sense of impending disaster. Night falls and the mists grow thicker.
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"All shall love me and despair."
Rhumaal