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01-25-2014, 01:15 AM
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The mists are alive. They push and pull and swirl and spin and thicken and thin and move. They are everywhere, and they are nowhere, and somehow, they are encasing the World's Edge in death. They condense and grow, sprouting legs and arms and eyes and mouths, and suddenly beneath the dome of darkness, a million little creatures begin to run. Their eyes glow red and their mouths glisten with congealing blood, and they are devouring everything in sight. The skies dim as the mists conceal everything; the world dims as it disappears behind mounds of hungry monsters. Slowly, but surely, the Edge is lost to angry demon-children. THIS BOARD WILL CLOSE on January 31st. All threads should either finish using this plot or you can request for them to be moved here! Welcome to Helovia's Darkest Hour. *Make sure to stop making new threads and pay attention. Consequences will not be good! |
