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Cronicles of one of the Fallen

An account from one of the few who flew with the grace of God, Challenged the sun, and was burned from the Heavens



Story Of The Blade of Tyshalle #21 On the day the dead man named himself, the great stone that had sealed his tomb was shattered. Its shards were cast into tha abyss, for what he breaks can never be mended, and what he opens can never be closed. This is the power of such naming. He came forth from his tomb, glowing and srtong as a morning sun that comes out of dark mountains

Posted by: Fallensorrow Sun Apr 17, 2005 @ 02:11pm

a breeze that smelled of wide-open spaces, of limitless skies and bright sun, of ice and high mountains.
It was the wind from the dark angels wings.