Description & Table of Contents
The wind did not softly blow through the green fields. The trees did not wave their leafy arms at those who looked on. Though it was summer, the fireflies did not glow, neither did the mosquitoes buzz annoyingly. There was a soft glow of light, indistinguishably either dusk or dawn. Nothing brought change to this once sort-of-peaceful world. There was change here once, but now no more. The light did not grow brighter nor fade.
Somewhere, in this non-changing world, there lies a battlefield - ancient, yet not a second old. There lies Fathill, with the thousand Dwarven Archers still guarding it faithfully. And, unseen to the eyes of most, there lie the holes, and the massive underground network of tunnels, with the secret base beneath Fathill.
