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Post by Lina on Jun 12, 2010 17:48:20 GMT
 In the deserts of Ashar, shamans whisper of the dark days to come. The sands are shifting, spurred by the rise of a living diety. His ambition knows no bounds. He is hungry, the winds say. He fancies himself the harbinger of an era to come.
An era he wants to create in his own image...
Across the border, in the land of Feragh, petty noble houses fight for the scraps of a decaying country. They bicker and wage small wars-- all running unchecked by the increasingly powerless royal house. Wise men say that times like these are always preludes to times of bloodshed and war. They say nothing good can come of an upstart neighbour and a weak central authority.
Wise men are wise for a reason.
The days are uncertain, but life carries on. Men make a living the best they can. Whether they struggle with the caravans against an inhospitable desert, or sail the seas trying to make a profit, the men and women of both lands watch the horizon with nervous tension. The future is uncertain, but few doubt the dangers it will bring. The times to come will test not only the bonds of relationship and nationality, but the bonds of faith itself...
In the deserts of Ashar, shamans whisper of dark days to come. They see blood, and they see blades. They see a fire that will burn nations to ash. Ashar is rising, they say. To wage war on the infidels, Ashar is rising...
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