Storm Over Ashdark
Copyright 2012 Ryan Viergutz
Published by Ryan Viergutz at Smashwords
A storm raged above the Ashdark mountains, drenching the commoners and threatening a flood to rival Tossrock Peak's worst avalanches. As one, the commoners rushed into their homes and slammed their doors, furtively watching the overwhelming streams flow through their village. Though it was soon realised that the ominous cloud was moving away, almost everyone remained in their homes for hours.
The cloud rumbled, its jagged electric arms crackling in the saturated air. The few trees on the mountainside were ripped asunder, their worn roots torn from the ground. Large boulders toppled down, immolating the surviving trees and rolling toward the cloud's destination, an ancient tower resting on a single stone.
A rogue dressed all in brown dodged a boulder eleven times his size, and waved his hands frantically at the cloaked elf walking below him, the wind drowning out his warnings. Her blue eyes darkened when she spotted the storm, now looming almost overhead. She rushed to the tower, her cloak flailing in the harbinger wind, and the rogue tried earnestly to catch her.
The rogue had but a second to gaze at the smooth onyx stones of the offkilter tower before he ran inside. He attempted to close the towering door. After two tries, he gave up, wearily rested his head against the doorframe, and studied a strange monochromatic swirl on the ceiling. He shook his head and looked for the elf. She stood just inside the tower, staring at the thick clouds and their imminent approach.
"Anri?" the rogue asked, "what is that?"