been a LONG time

Houses... houses everywhere on the windswept coast, where once it was lonely and silent. Houses that have been built on the ruins of other houses, at times, such as the one at the very tip of the premonitory. The occaisional gray stone still pokes out of the ground from the previous house, silver inlaid runes glinting in the rising and setting sun. Much time has passed, since the little tower that stood at the premonitory fell to dust, with its owners crushed in the ruins...

The wolf, shaggy gray hair lifted at the nape of it's neck, digs at the sandy soil, growling to itself softly, something whispering to it, over and over, a command that could not be ignored, dig, child of the moon, dig to me...

At last, a figure lay outlined in the hole, tall, male, clad in blackened plate armor, clutching a rusty bardiche in his left hand. Go now, child, thank you... The wolf flees, away from something that feels long dead yet somehow is not. The man slowly lifts a black gauntlet, fingers flexing.

"So weak... so much strength gone. I must seek Haven for a time, I think... before I can properly return..."

The man lifts himself from the sand and grime, steps away from the small pit in which he lay, armor squealing, and then collapses to his knees. Carefully, he sheds much of the old armor, places them in a bag, and drops the bag in a deep part of the hole. A whispered word, and the hole closes in on itself, sealing the armor in for a future time when it may be reclaimed. Again, the man stands, and this time he manages to stay upright. Swaying slightly, he closes his eyes and sends his mind questing, downward, deeper into the earth.

"Yes... I feel you both... When my strength returns, I shall return for you."

A whispered phrase, a shimmer of light, and the man vanishes.

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> Houses... houses everywhere on the windswept coast, where once it was lonely and silent. Houses that have been built on the ruins of other houses, at times, such as the one at the very tip of the premonitory. The occaisional gray stone still pokes out of the ground from the previous house, silver inlaid runes glinting in the rising and setting sun. Much time has passed, since the little tower that stood at the premonitory fell to dust, with its owners crushed in the ruins... > The wolf, shaggy gray hair lifted at the nape of it's neck, digs at the sandy soil, growling to itself softly, something whispering to it, over and over, a command that could not be ignored, dig, child of the moon, dig to me... > At last, a figure lay outlined in the hole, tall, male, clad in blackened plate armor, clutching a rusty bardiche in his left hand. Go now, child, thank you... The wolf flees, away from something that feels long dead yet somehow is not. The man slowly lifts a black gauntlet, fingers flexing. > > "So weak... so much strength gone. I must seek Haven for a time, I think... before I can properly return..." > The man lifts himself from the sand and grime, steps away from the small pit in which he lay, armor squealing, and then collapses to his knees. Carefully, he sheds much of the old armor, places them in a bag, and drops the bag in a deep part of the hole. A whispered word, and the hole closes in on itself, sealing the armor in for a future time when it may be reclaimed. Again, the man stands, and this time he manages to stay upright. Swaying slightly, he closes his eyes and sends his mind questing, downward, deeper into the earth. > "Yes... I feel you both... When my strength returns, I shall return for you." > A whispered phrase, a shimmer of light, and the man vanishes.
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