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TOPIC | Write, Dress, Win: G5 New Year's Naomis!
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dressing/outfit/1443124][img] https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/dressing-room/scry?sdid=1276489&skin=0&apparel=11226,26941,660,23029,663,336,307,351,716,27492&xt=dressing.png[/img][/url][/center]
The mirror fled across the Shattered Plain, and Roland followed. He had pursued the abhorrent creature through the frigid Snowsquall Tundra, then found his way across the Molten Scar, swam over the Leviathan Trench, and trudged through the Abiding boneyard to get to this forsaken plain. The brute of an imperial knew, without a glimpse of his quarry, [i]that he was closing in.[/i] Roland could feel it in the shifting of his bones as he relentlessly tracked the being that had been his solitary goal for half of his life.
Dusk was setting in over the barren plain, and Roland walked on. Night settled like a thick blanket, and still the dragon tramped on. Finally a glimmer of fire flickered in the distance. Roland stopped.
[b]”There you are. Another week, another month. Doesn’t matter. Here I come.”[/b]
After years of pursuit another month was breath in the wind. He was getting closer. He nodded, looked around for some branches, and started the process of building his own fire. Once the job was done he settled in next to it’s warmth.
He got up before daybreak. There was no longer the glimmer of the fire his quarry hand built in the night. That was fine. Some instinct in Roland told him where the mirror was headed. Dragonhome. It has always been the Pillar of the World where the two would meet again. Roland knew the mirror was after shattering the final few alliances between the flights. He would stop the creature. It was his duty to stop him. He was Roland, the last Gunslinger.
@elduwen
The mirror fled across the Shattered Plain, and Roland followed. He had pursued the abhorrent creature through the frigid Snowsquall Tundra, then found his way across the Molten Scar, swam over the Leviathan Trench, and trudged through the Abiding boneyard to get to this forsaken plain. The brute of an imperial knew, without a glimpse of his quarry, that he was closing in. Roland could feel it in the shifting of his bones as he relentlessly tracked the being that had been his solitary goal for half of his life.
Dusk was setting in over the barren plain, and Roland walked on. Night settled like a thick blanket, and still the dragon tramped on. Finally a glimmer of fire flickered in the distance. Roland stopped.
”There you are. Another week, another month. Doesn’t matter. Here I come.”
After years of pursuit another month was breath in the wind. He was getting closer. He nodded, looked around for some branches, and started the process of building his own fire. Once the job was done he settled in next to it’s warmth.
He got up before daybreak. There was no longer the glimmer of the fire his quarry hand built in the night. That was fine. Some instinct in Roland told him where the mirror was headed. Dragonhome. It has always been the Pillar of the World where the two would meet again. Roland knew the mirror was after shattering the final few alliances between the flights. He would stop the creature. It was his duty to stop him. He was Roland, the last Gunslinger.
@elduwen