Void infused

The salty winds of the sea carried an eerie melody as they swept across the desolate, sandy shores. The rhythmic roar of the relentless waves barely disturbed the oppressive stillness that hung in the air like a heavy shroud. What was once a peaceful fishing village, full of life and laughter, now lay in ruin—its remains blackened and smoldering. Thick ash clung to the ground, while tendrils of smoke curled upward, lingering as ghostly reminders of the devastation. The acrid smell of burning wood and scorched earth filled the air, and glowing embers pulsated faintly, as though the inferno had only recently passed, leaving nothing but sorrow in its wake.

You stood at the edge of the beach, your gaze fixed on the skeletal remnants of the village stretched out before you. A deep unease settled in your chest. What had happened here? Where were the villagers? They had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only fragments of lives violently torn apart. Shattered fishing boats lay abandoned, dragged ashore and now splintered and warped. Fragments of pottery and torn pieces of clothing littered the sand, each one a grim reminder of the lives once lived here.

Then, you saw them—skeletons, driven by dark sorcery, advancing toward the ruins. Their bones clattered with every deliberate step, rusted weapons gripped tightly in their bony hands. Moving with eerie precision, they struck down anything alive. The creak of their movement echoed through the desolate village, now a battlefield where they reaped the lives of the living.

Your grip tightened around your weapon, bracing for the inevitable clash. A shiver coursed through you, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders. These skeletal foes were not the only horrors in the village. The shadows stretched long and foreboding, a grim testament to the sinister power that had plunged this place into despair.

As you moved deeper into the ruins, a glint caught your eye. Among the broken stone structures and burned-out timber, a charred scroll, half-buried in the sand, remained surprisingly legible despite the damage. The faint ink read:
“The Black Dragon has risen. Emerging from the depths, he seeks retribution. None shall stand in his wake.”

The words struck you with the force of a hammer. The dragon’s return was the heart of this nightmare. But what had summoned him? Why was he unleashing his wrath on these peaceful villages? The scroll gave no answers, only a cryptic clue—a faint trail winding inland. A nagging sense of dread confirmed what you feared: the dragon’s return was just the beginning.