Tolcreg, a small town in Sembia, not a days walk from Selgaunt. A tiny fishing village not more than forty in number, this town no longer stands. Forgotten and left. When carts stopped turning up for market day, none noticed except perhaps a few Selgaunt fish mongers, they soon found new suppliers. Such is the business of this land.
Darkskies no longer linger here, just an empty stone hut with a spear atop it’s shale roof. The head, a bolt of lightening. All around are ashes and burned wood, places where homes once stood, now only sodden ground.
People here were proud and righteous, good souls, they would not pay, to stay.
Parabolus warned them, but they did not listen.
Darkskies no longer linger here, just an empty stone hut with a spear atop it’s shale roof. The head, a bolt of lightening. All around are ashes and burned wood, places where homes once stood, now only sodden ground.
People here were proud and righteous, good souls, they would not pay, to stay.
Parabolus warned them, but they did not listen.
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