DeletedUser
Guest
A few scattered villages nestle into the rolling hills of UK-4. Around their thin walls play the ragged children of newly arrived settlers, farmers for the most part, peaceful folk intent on gathering in the harvest and and collecting the bounty provided by rich, dark soil. Smoke drifts lazily through the thatch of their cottages hazing the thin winter sun, a dog barks in the distance and then all is quiet.
But listen closely, close your eyes and cup your ears and listen ... there, and again .. a steady, rhythmic splash of oars drifts across the wine dark sea. Through the mist, as silent as a hunting owl, slides the shape of longboat, its high prow carved into runic swirls, a line of overlapping, battle weary shields running down each side and half obscured, the sweating, straining oarsman within. They row with hands thickly calloused, ropes of muscle bunch and release with each pull, muscle conditioned through years of wielding heavy iron war axes on blood drenched battle fields, long hair matted with animal grease and salty sweat sways in unison with each powerful stroke. These warriors, once great warlords in the distant land of UK-2, have abandoned their riches, abandoned their wealth and their villages to start again, to start with nothing in this new, clean land. But they do not come in peace.
Oh, the time of darkness has so soon come - tremble you children of UK-4, the warriors of HD have reached your shores!
But listen closely, close your eyes and cup your ears and listen ... there, and again .. a steady, rhythmic splash of oars drifts across the wine dark sea. Through the mist, as silent as a hunting owl, slides the shape of longboat, its high prow carved into runic swirls, a line of overlapping, battle weary shields running down each side and half obscured, the sweating, straining oarsman within. They row with hands thickly calloused, ropes of muscle bunch and release with each pull, muscle conditioned through years of wielding heavy iron war axes on blood drenched battle fields, long hair matted with animal grease and salty sweat sways in unison with each powerful stroke. These warriors, once great warlords in the distant land of UK-2, have abandoned their riches, abandoned their wealth and their villages to start again, to start with nothing in this new, clean land. But they do not come in peace.
Oh, the time of darkness has so soon come - tremble you children of UK-4, the warriors of HD have reached your shores!
