"As long as mankind shall continue to bestow more liberal applause on their
destroyers than on their benefactors, the thirst of military glory will ever be
the vice of exalted characters. ~Edward Gibbon"
Man separated; some fled, some fought. They divided themselves into rebellions, and pledges to either side, but they were naught but fickle pawns in the games of war. One nation swore oath to the silver moon above, the other nation to the golden sun. Each side swore to deity and man alike that they were the better, more righteous. Neither side would back down, both led by arrogance and pride. It seemed that total obliteration of all and everything was all that would stop the war. And in full knowledge of this, still the war raged on.
Rain. It was the first in weeks. The ground was hard, dry and cracked? the water wasn?t being absorbed. The thunderstorm had broken in the early morning and already the world beneath the clouds was flooding. Thunder boomed over head, cracking as the Gods protested the war; or was it the war itself? It was impossible to tell. Lightening struck the dead sticks near by; it had once been a forest but now only charcoal and ash remained. The flashes played eerie shadows across the darkened world, and silhouettes danced at the edge of his visions.
Nathaniel took refuge beneath the front porch of a dilapidated old church. Once the building had been an architectural masterpiece; there was still shards of a plaque announcing that it was a preserved piece of ancient history. It was only rubble now. The majority of the roof had caved, and the steeple lay in pieces to the side. Still, the front pillars held enough shelter over a few dozen steps to keep him clear of the rain.
Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/qXBXBqxOu5o/viewtopic.php
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