

The CliffThe CliffThe Cliff
Over a tumultuous black sea roil dark sickly green clouds. Lightning flashes down, thunder rolling like a Norse god’s rage, the sea roars in anger. Waves towering fifty feet high crash down shattering the world with their force. The world is dark, pierced only by the sporadic flashes of lightning.
Out of this sea rises a cliff, hundreds of feet high, its sides jagged with rocks pulled from the primordial deep. The cylinder climbs hundreds of feet into the air until its top is almost lost in the sickly green clouds. From far upon the top of the cliff a small light begins to grow, dispersing the clouds