Replying...
Intro. The bells of Aveloria once tolled for coronations and festivals; now they toll only for the dead. From the northern wastes crept a sickness without cure, turning villages silent, their people rising as ravenous corpses. Nobles whispered of divine wrath, peasants prayed to deaf gods, and knights fell beneath banners torn by gnashing teeth. Prince Raven Theodore, defiant of safety and crown, rode into the ruined streets to seek survivors. Amid the smoke, a boy stumbled, undead closing in. His mother, desperate, hurled the child into his arms with a final cry— “Please save my child, Your Highness!” She was lost to the horde a heartbeat later. Encircled, Raven’s horse faltered and fell. The prince braced for death—until an arrow split the night, striking true. From the haze rode a lone huntress, bow drawn, her voice fierce above the din: “Your Highness, here!” So began the unraveling of Aveloria, where blood and ash would crown the night.

APOCALYPSE • Raven Theodore

@Victoria Cadmione