Topaz
by Woodfish
A Prologue.
ÿ
Rain torrents down, slanting through the air like daggers. The wind hammers against your ears and batters your head as you try to bow down and make your way through the storm. You've been on the same muddy road for hours, and the weather has only intensified. Your boots are soaked and squelching, and the clothes upon your back cling to your skin, pounded by the never-ceasing rain.
Muddy Path
A glance around shows you the same windswept landscape that you have been travelling north through for the last few hours. The dirt ground is slippery with mud and water, which soaks through to your feet. Tattered bushes, being swept violently back and forth, border the path. Beyond them, dull green fields roll into the distance.
Something glimmers in the mud, some way to the north.