16 July 2012, 08:05
Doran floated disembodied above a scene of unimaginable carnage. They were everywhere, the cave voles, and not a plump helmet remained unscathed. Bits and pieces of their torn purple flesh lay in the mud -- no, these voles did not eat everything they killed! It is a dream, a dream! Doran thought, but he remained in that exact place, fixed in that posture, branded to the dank air as the massacre continued for what seemed like an age.
The dwarf awoke in a cold sweat. Casting aside his bedding, he ran out of his room without putting on his boots. He had to see it -- he had to see the farm!
16 July 2012, 08:03
The terrible sun baked the cracked earth below as Aliz staggered on. The caravan left him for dead after a skeletal bear attack. It must have been an ancient being, from when this dry land was once green and alive. Now the undead were all that crawled here. One foot in front of another, that was the only way. The dwarf wrapped a scarf around his beard to keep out the dust. Ahead was a steep dune.
As Aliz approached the mountain of sand, the tracks of the caravan disappeared. There was no wind to erase the tracks. No, some evil was at work here. He went down to inspect the tracks and jerked his hand back just in time. A cobra! It shouldn’t be here. Nothing lives in these wastes. He dove out of the way as a dozen scorpions flew through the air straight at him. This could mean only one thing.