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Gentle zephyrs send tremors through the treelimbs, a few golden leaves
tumbling to the cold earth. Autumn was beginning, and the air seemed to grow
colder with every day. Time drags on as your scythes beat the forest floor, creating
a never-ending rhythm that echoes through the wood. Beams of lemon-gold brilliance
lance through the canopy above, creating pools of light on the earth. A snort escapes
your flared nares, your radars stand erect. A foreign scent reaches out to you - enticing, homely.
Their world is unlike any other. Those who a pure of heart and those loyal to Satan reside together in the same land, though saying that they cooperate isn't exactly accurate. It started as a land struggle, and now is merely a power struggle. Will one side prevail, or will a peace maker arise to settle the differences?
You can help to decide the fate of Crystal Lake Valley. |
