overgrowthovergrown
“THE SKY — THE SKY IS ALIVE WITH WINGS AND HISSING AND HORROR!
I went for a quiet walk near 1670, 1740, hoping to brood in peace, and what do I find? A WYVERN NEST. Not just a nest — an abomination of multiplication. They’re everywhere. Hatchlings slithering over each other, adults shrieking, wings beating like thunder, venom dripping like some kind of reptilian apocalypse!
THERE ARE SO MANY OF THEM. TOO MANY. I CAN STILL HEAR THE FLAPPING.
If any brave fools — I mean heroes — value their lives or the peace of this realm, get over there and deal with this winged nightmare before they overrun everything. I’m going home to scream into a pillow.”
overgrowthovergrown.txt · Last modified: by NineInchWhale