Role

Chapter 3

She soared, high above the Voralian River. The city to the north, the storm raged around
the saurian druid in her condor form. This was her element and she thrived. Lost in a sort
of meditation, she took in not only the lands around her, but the events to come as the
world thinned to harbinger nightmarish things.

Even while the imperials march, the spire recruited, and the ancient city of Thar-Acacia
plotted, the world locked their doors, and closed their windows in hopes to block out the
nightmarish things to come. She was not afraid of these things and would be waiting for
certainly orcs would crawl forth as well, and with the mages seeking to unlock the witching
hour, duergar and minotaur villagers would again run rampant. Order mages would seek a place
to develop their magic. But she would be waiting, embracing the wild energies with the
wisdom and guidance of Rarywey. Yes, even now, the chaotic feeling was beautiful it was...

Crack! Lightning whipped its strike. Bolt. Painful. Sizzling. And she fell. Plummeting.

Dazed. The chaotic world faded away as she hit the ground.

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Shadows deep, tempests tall,
Chaos spinning, downward fall.
Storms, a fear not of her own,
Betray us now, not just broken bone.

Along Voralian rivers that run so deep.
Another dread does dare to seep.
Silent. Stark. With iron might,
Order's hand. It squeezes tight.

In the mind of typicalman's dream,
Chaos may a tempest seem.
But know some souls between gasping breath,
Fear silent chill of order's death.

For in a world where shadows flee,
Order might the true terror be.
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