Wednesday, July 11, 2012

City of Cinders

Smoke blurred the horizon making it impossible to discern the transition from the low grey overcast sky and the spires of city buildings. Stormy -eyed men and women driven frantic by the presence of such a concentration of dragons, fled their commons and apartments outside into the cold windy war zone. The blizzard brought blinding sleet, snow, as well as perfect conditions for the White dragon assault. Like ghosts from the Mists, the dragons struck and faded from sight. In a parody of all previous manners beautiful metallic dragons both Gold and Bronze abetted the Whites in defiling and defacing each and every temple, shrine, and place of worship on the city. 


Fey, both fair and unseelie dance and revel in the chaos wrought by the scaly-kind. Each prankish fey creature possessed a penchant for wild magic and a super natural avarice for gold and gems. As people ran and hid for their lives from the dragons, the fey were robbing them of their wealth and precious items. Not even the securest guild house or villas escape the rioting leprechauns and red-caps. With, some would say blood-thirsty vengeance; the fey also attacked every arcane spell-caster on sight evidenced as magic surged across the city like bubbles atop a boiling alchemist's cauldron.


In the Northern Wards of Waterdeep, centuries-old bodily remains of fallen adventurers, deep dwarves, and countless variations of monsters emerged from the Undermountain tearing open the sewers by the dozens. Parched nightmarish undead with black satanic skulls began stealing the living off the wintry streets and into oblivion as a black skull. 


Blood mixed with ice and snow south of Waterdeep Mountain as the lifeblood from the countless men and women; human or otherwise killed in the higher wards stained the cobbles and planks in the Southern Wards. Here the undead, Mystra’s clergy that was, starved of blood canvas the avenues and wharfs feasting on portly highborn aristocrats seeking refuge. Many people who were not shaken by the frightful presence of the dragons, would be haunted by nightmares of these vampires for the rest of their lives.


Brother against brother and house against house-- it was the Discordia sung by the Dark Angels who flew above the battles urging for more violence and loss between the human population themselves. However; just as there were atrocities and mischief visited on the people of Waterdeep, so to be there heroes and defenders of the Moonfeast Massacre. Gunslingers, Bards, Highborn, Avatars, Dwarves, and Colossuses fought, sang, and sacrificed for the Realm… for City of Splendors.



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