|
Post by Highlord Borune on Jan 27, 2009 14:15:10 GMT
Dark were the skies and chill was the wind as the sky was covered in a veil of mask. Across the hill did ride a dread army of the night, cloaked in mist and fog, prepared to rain down death and destruction across the land, and the people did cry for a hero, a noble soul to save them from their impending demise. Just as it seemed all was lost, in strode a mighty hero. Clad in shimmering metal from head to toe and wielding a mighty broadsword he did cleave his foes in two. Smashing their ranks asunder with his righteous fury, and when the day was done and the enemy strewn across the field in pieces, the people did turn to the warrior and say, "We will name this day in your honour. Speak unto us your wisdom." The warrior said but one word that day: "EPIC".
Greetings
|
|