onsdag den 9. marts 2011

Ulrich Bannon

    'My homeland.' Ulrich said, a shadow of a smile on his usually emotionless face. 'I'd almost forgotten what it looked like.' He looked back at his companion, waving him on. 'Come, doctor!'
    Blitzmann wiped the sweat from his brow as he clambered over the moss-covered rocks. He really wasn't meant for this type of terrain. His feet ached, his lungs burned and his mouth was dry. He made a mental note to take a second look at his Controlled Explosion Boots design. More control, less explosion, this time. But as he crested the top of the hill, he had to admit it was an impressive sight.
    Great, rolling plains with scattered islands of red moss covered the immense valley. Black mountains framed the horizon, snow-covered tips almost hidden in the clouds. The Morrowpeak Lions stood as they had for millennia, built by the gods of past.
    A peel of thunder rolled across the valley.
    'Do you hear?' Ulrich asked, peering into the sky. 'The mountains are forging the first breaths of war.'

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