Below is an excerpt from my up and coming trilogy, The God of the Darklands. The story and the characters have had some dramatic changes over the years. I hope you like this piece from the begining of book one.
Myst stood upon the highest of the four hills overlooking the small town of Dorren. Its crumbling houses of stone were crooked and old, barely protected by the valley it was nestled in. The ferocious winds still caused the lifeless homes to creak and moan; it pressed against the few trees left in Morenna and caught hold of crisp leaves, sending them in a whirling dance of gold and browns. Smoke from the chimneys never had a chance to reach the permanently gloomy sky above.
A terrible storm would hit tonight. She could feel it like a dark shadow looming inside her mind, a tugging force warning persistently. She cringed away from the feeling. There had been many storms, many sleepless nights of howling wind and icy rain battering the windows, but this one felt different. This one felt stronger.
Myst turned her back on the sleepy town and looked out over the barren lands of Morenna, the Human Realm. The horizon was an uncertain combination of sloping valleys, steep hills and sudden drops. Rocks lay scattered from Earthshakes.
Dorren, and the land it inhabited, had once been beautiful. At least that is what they taught in class. She was too young to know. The never ending storms had begun long before her birth or any she knew in town. A thousand years they said. A thousand years of darkness and storms. It was now called simply The Plains.
For more on the GOTDLs books see Ramblings of Dexus link and The God of the Darklands link.