epsilon's Profile

At that moment the drizzle eased, and Ledoik could see as plain as day a blight upon the fields near the edge of the forest. Like a rock dropped into a pond, a wave of lighter shades of green emanated from the blights centre. Growing from the forest, where it was darkest, the field got lighter and lighter the further away it was from the blight. It was clear enough. The commander barked words, organising the archers, the few catapults they had and the giant rockslings to this side of the battlements. He motioned them to aim towards the blight, the dark patch near the fields edge

'To the victor goes the spoils' it is said but what if those spoils are not what they seem. What if those items of victory, are deadly.

In wonder the adventurers stood awe struck by the beauty and splendour of the surrounding foliage. The great open plain before them transformed from a flat green world into mesmerising colours and movement. The Vissealist stood unmoving, his hands outspread and resting gently on an intricate structure of vines that threaded their way over the wall and into the earth of the plain, spreading outwards from the ramparts of the kings palace.