(OOC: Thank you for the starter!)
So decreed the Fell of its impious name, naught but the writhing weebs fought to ebb from these undying tales of yore and fluke! Save for the sightly remnants of goodwill, whatever may there be left of members of the mortal race, yet cleft and sundered eternally in two. Entrusted by the Gods to beseech these men to wrought haven instead of ruin, to summon rule upon the lands in a manner orderly and just, flaunt victory in the names of righteous lords and kingly descendants, yet, years imparted within evil and sinful hearts have misguided them to forsake a vow of troth; for be it the gods or ambassadors of heavens, or angelic cherubs and charitable cupids, none shall prevail in adjusting what was wronged from once which was right!
Wails of pitiable foes shelved within ancient war echoes still within the Fell, whence once the light and shinning star upon Heaven's glance, grassy plains which once summoned the glee and spirits of fairies and pixies, trampled upon by feet of children and animals who came to play, therein dead beaten roots lies now as a memory of a forgone past. Seamlessly is the Fell indulge in never-ending Winter, yet, erstwhile that day, Fate deems him to trample upon the foot of a bewitching fairy upon the setting of winter's sun.
"Ah, I herald no means of discourtesy. Nigh is the day drawing to fusion with the rising moon, as such, I must have been walking blindly at thought!"