The epic return
Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2024 3:36 pm
Not far from the busy streets of Thais you find the small island of Fibula. You get there trough tunnels under the ocean. The peaceful island of Fibula has an remarkable history, the island might seem peaceful today but once it was the center of some of the greatest gatherings ever known.
Here brave heroes enterd the dungeons to fight the evil creatures lurking underneath. The fools went deeper to fight some of the most powerful creatures ever known. Great battles has been fought on the streets and allys. The once so powerful mercenearys home located to the east, in the highest tower on the island. In the center of the village the followers of Banor, the Red Rose has their legendary hall. The Red Rose once had thorns sharper than any blade you can imagine. Fibula was at peaceful times bussing with events, parties and friendship.
Today an old man is sitting in a hut, his face is wrinkled and covered in grey beard, his eyes are tired. his hands are bony, and you can see the scars from the battles he has fought. He is coverd in the most snow white hood you ever seen. In his hand he hold a mug, a mug filled with the finest elven wine. The dust on the table are not an excuse for an busy life. His days are long, he plays chess alone.
From a distance you can hear cheerful voices, singing and laughter, the doors to the halls of the Red Rose opens. Followers of Banor fills the streets of fibula, the tierd mans eyes spark and turns red. With a surprisingly ease he raises from the chair, swiftly he reaches for his bow, joining his brothers and sisters of the Red Rose.
The Red Rose has risen, may it flourish and grow..
Here brave heroes enterd the dungeons to fight the evil creatures lurking underneath. The fools went deeper to fight some of the most powerful creatures ever known. Great battles has been fought on the streets and allys. The once so powerful mercenearys home located to the east, in the highest tower on the island. In the center of the village the followers of Banor, the Red Rose has their legendary hall. The Red Rose once had thorns sharper than any blade you can imagine. Fibula was at peaceful times bussing with events, parties and friendship.
Today an old man is sitting in a hut, his face is wrinkled and covered in grey beard, his eyes are tired. his hands are bony, and you can see the scars from the battles he has fought. He is coverd in the most snow white hood you ever seen. In his hand he hold a mug, a mug filled with the finest elven wine. The dust on the table are not an excuse for an busy life. His days are long, he plays chess alone.
From a distance you can hear cheerful voices, singing and laughter, the doors to the halls of the Red Rose opens. Followers of Banor fills the streets of fibula, the tierd mans eyes spark and turns red. With a surprisingly ease he raises from the chair, swiftly he reaches for his bow, joining his brothers and sisters of the Red Rose.
The Red Rose has risen, may it flourish and grow..
