The Children of Lyconis

there have always been stories of curses since the beginning of time form every culture, and many of them tell stories of men changing into a wolf or drinking blood with strength beyond normal mortal being with unnaturally long life to them. As most stories do there is some truth to them, and this one is no different.

Our story begains with a great blite a pone a land devstaing its people with the cruption running deep with strong roots feeding off the people and the land it self, now such things as this can be pestlaneces, a greate famemine, whilest others a great plague that sweeps through lands like a swift breeze. yet worser still and greate much more sinster indeed is a governce of a land and it soul ruller proseiding over it following the crupt dark path of trantishm for it is greate dark stane more devish then any of these. This is where we find our selves standing on the door step of such a place looking at what some would call a mound of rouble and rock, yet as we peal back the winds of time like an onion the decay revert walls rise to a mighty white city on a hill.

This was the captial of what know as distalcolumbiant and its captial of weshting rulled over by its high king Lyconis last of the lyconian kings a once mighty line now crontroled by a wich evil man. and this city a once shining glitring city on a hill is but a merimage of it once might grander, as he slowly groupted is goverment like cancer working its way into the flesh roating the goverment from with in it tryrains kindom the nobles thrive while his people strave and strugle to service on what little is left in the land with all it recourse squndered and money and weath gone.

We stand here at the gates with little old lady that looking down truaented we wonder with her through the gates as bags the gard for help he truns his back on as makes her way through to town talk to offical after offical crupt and on caring as the rest till she makes her way to the king offering a singal flower if he would but help her and her alleying mother. only tohave the king turn her away and apone having her thrown out a flash of light and a grand gust of wind push all the kings man and nobles to the edege of the grate bankquet hall.

the old lady turn then king frozen unable to from his chair from under her hood we see a skickning grin as she begains to levate from the hall marble flour and the image of this little old lady fades reveling a grate and mighty magi grand scorucces to the unversial mother. she speak with a voice beyound any normal being or creuate much deeper and with aulthority beyound any mortal begin. she speeks,"

Long as your family kept these lands and tend to them and there people, yet here we stand