Petals upon the wind
Flutters of orange and pink
Carries away my thoughts

No form or meaning,
Into the sky above me,
Purer eyes to gaze

Golden rays of light,
Slowly dying upon the horizon
Darkness falling quick

A final bleak thought,
Was it really worth it?
Nothing left to feel.


Winter’s bite had settled across the land. Crisp, fresh snow had turned into bitter ice, clinging to drains and gutters and turning the normally temperate Corone into an icy tomb. It was normal for Corone to feel the touch of snow in the peak of winter, but not like this. Fires burned in every house, just barely enough to keep the chill from settling into your bones. Our story starts in the back streets of Radasanth. The cobbles stones were uneven with years of neglect. The slush of dirt and ice found every crevice to fill and make every foot fall possibly your last. It was the dead of night and not even a mouse dared to stir.