- Joined
- Jan 25, 2014
- Messages
- 36
- Reaction score
- 55
- First Language
- English
- Primarily Uses
So yeah, Photobucket hates me! tried what felt like a million times, but url just wont work, so im adding a link to the page. Sorry about this...
http://i610.photobucket.com/albums/tt186/jcin5466/contestmap_zpssraqqrpx.png
For my story I picked El Capitan map, enjoy!
--The wind tore through the barren landscape with such ease, never masking itself once but rushing at the walls of the village, with full force. It was my duty to cleanse the altar, even when the weather wasn’t accommodating, but this day felt different, for winter had to make a bold statement on the eve of her final hour. I bundled up and readied myself for the treacherous weather ahead, never knowing the fate that awaited me.
As I stepped on to the alter, the frigid wind stumbled me, my hand reached for the cold hard stone to maintain my balance, falling back all that came to mind was the somber sounds of the winter breeze. Closing my eyes, I let go, allowing my momentum to take over… Many years later I still find myself drawn to these grounds, bound to its fate like so many others in the village. Brushing away the chilling snow to revile what I had forgotten to be true. This was my home, my resting place, my grave…. --
http://i610.photobucket.com/albums/tt186/jcin5466/contestmap_zpssraqqrpx.png
For my story I picked El Capitan map, enjoy!
--The wind tore through the barren landscape with such ease, never masking itself once but rushing at the walls of the village, with full force. It was my duty to cleanse the altar, even when the weather wasn’t accommodating, but this day felt different, for winter had to make a bold statement on the eve of her final hour. I bundled up and readied myself for the treacherous weather ahead, never knowing the fate that awaited me.
As I stepped on to the alter, the frigid wind stumbled me, my hand reached for the cold hard stone to maintain my balance, falling back all that came to mind was the somber sounds of the winter breeze. Closing my eyes, I let go, allowing my momentum to take over… Many years later I still find myself drawn to these grounds, bound to its fate like so many others in the village. Brushing away the chilling snow to revile what I had forgotten to be true. This was my home, my resting place, my grave…. --



