The candle flame flickered defiantly, yet another battle with the shadow of night. Trapped in an endless stalemate it fought, defending its world from darkness. Its world was a small stone room. Its battlefield, an old wooden desk. A tired scroll lay in no mans land, fog of war masked its words as they slipped into shadow. The tale that hid within this scroll was mighty. A tale of lands forgotten. A tale that was fading silently into the night.
The heavy wooden door creaked wearily as it opened to the starry night; a floodgate. Unleashed, hordes of icy chills mounted upon cold steeds of moonlit air swarmed the room. The armies of shadow scattered, their war encroached. The weary candle flame faltered and choked, a defiant last stand to an unknown foe.
A moment passes.
An icy breath glides across the silenced battlefield, dust unsettled by its eerie passing. A tired, forgotten scroll awakes from the depths; released from a dusty façade of time-worn terror. The etchings appear slowly at first, inky treasures of hidden lore. Tales of honour. Tales of worth. Tales of heroes and forgotten souls.
The scroll unfurls, a magical presence of wonder. Idyllic landscapes breathe from the parchment. Great oceans brought to life by a myriad of swirling colour. The endless kingdoms stretch to eternity, enveloping a new world in awe. The scroll speaks of a legendary world, a faraway land of magic and mysticism. A land where one may shape a destiny; where one may become a hero.
You close your eyes and breathe softly. Welcome, dear traveller, for it is now time for you to write your own tale...