The world was a pretty **** place, shrouded by fog.
A land of grey crags, archtrees, and everlasting dragons whom wouldn't didn't give a **** if their tails got hacked off.
And then there was Fire
And with Fire came absolute *** confusion. Heat! Cold! Life AND Death. Light and Dark! No wonder everybody went nuts when all this **** appeared.
Then, from the Dark, They came
And found the Souls of Lords within the flame.
Nito, the first of the dead. And his stupid resurrecting skeletons.
The Witch of Izalith, and her sexy daughters of chaos.
Gwyn, the Lord of Sunlight, and his faithful knights with no fashion sense.
And the furtive pygmy, so easily forgotten... and so easily stirring up **** theories on the net.
Gwyn's mighty bolts peeled apart their stone scales. So much for his faithful knights doing any work.
The witches weaved great firestorms, because that's the first thing that comes to mind when you're a **** pyromaniac...
Nito unleashed a miasma of death and disease, which he then refused to reverse, leaving him in piss poor standing with the other lot.
And Seath the Scaleless betrayed his own... just because he could, and without any bloody legs no less.
And the Dragons were no more.
Thus began the Age of Fire, which is a lot like Christmas but less violent.
But soon, the flames will fade, and only the Dark will remain. Which doesn't make any sense. Fire going out? Kindle that *****. Don't tell me they ran out of things to burn. That's *** ridiculous.
Anyway, there are only embers, and man sees not light, but endless nights.
And amongst the living are seen, carriers of the accursed Darksign. Which will never be properly explained. Is it just the Chosen Undead who has it? Or everyone who's going Hollow. Nobody knows. And so begins our journey, and the end of any concrete storytelling…
A land of grey crags, archtrees, and everlasting dragons whom wouldn't didn't give a **** if their tails got hacked off.
And then there was Fire
And with Fire came absolute *** confusion. Heat! Cold! Life AND Death. Light and Dark! No wonder everybody went nuts when all this **** appeared.
Then, from the Dark, They came
And found the Souls of Lords within the flame.
Nito, the first of the dead. And his stupid resurrecting skeletons.
The Witch of Izalith, and her sexy daughters of chaos.
Gwyn, the Lord of Sunlight, and his faithful knights with no fashion sense.
And the furtive pygmy, so easily forgotten... and so easily stirring up **** theories on the net.
Gwyn's mighty bolts peeled apart their stone scales. So much for his faithful knights doing any work.
The witches weaved great firestorms, because that's the first thing that comes to mind when you're a **** pyromaniac...
Nito unleashed a miasma of death and disease, which he then refused to reverse, leaving him in piss poor standing with the other lot.
And Seath the Scaleless betrayed his own... just because he could, and without any bloody legs no less.
And the Dragons were no more.
Thus began the Age of Fire, which is a lot like Christmas but less violent.
But soon, the flames will fade, and only the Dark will remain. Which doesn't make any sense. Fire going out? Kindle that *****. Don't tell me they ran out of things to burn. That's *** ridiculous.
Anyway, there are only embers, and man sees not light, but endless nights.
And amongst the living are seen, carriers of the accursed Darksign. Which will never be properly explained. Is it just the Chosen Undead who has it? Or everyone who's going Hollow. Nobody knows. And so begins our journey, and the end of any concrete storytelling…