Points needed for next level: 266 Level
There is a time, a place, and a need for everything. At that specific time. There is a time to live, a time to die. There is a time for jubilee, there is a time for mourning. There is a time for day, a time for night. A time for friendship, a time for enemies. As has been said, a time for everything. I present you a place now…
The sun is leaving, the moon is coming. The dusk turning to the cold night. A night in which life slows, and sleeps. The time is to sleep. To stop… to slow, and then, to end. The forests of this place are now covered in the darkness that spawned trolls and goblins, thieves and marauders. The townships and holds have closed their borders, turned their lights off, and went into their darkness. A darkness where mercenaries and cutthroats thrive. The ports have closed, yet forever a light, until dawn, but it is night now. Even the pubs start to sleep. And, as the sky darkens, the light fades away. Stars start to rise, just pinpricks of light, possible holding just the same world, possibly not. Each star shimmers with life, and some with a false life, for they’re already dead. Crickets can chirp without interruption of people, animals may rest from running from hunters. Life takes a rest. Life takes some time off, to slow, to stop. Maybe… maybe to leave.
So long, friends on Kongregate, the five that are left, I shall quite truly miss. Farewell.