Dream Journal 09-05-16
I stood in the barren marshlands of Rhol staring out over my slaughtered comrades. Their spilt blood provided the colour to the dismal scene. The lands were grey and sludgy, thick swamplands with long dead trees providing the only vegetation for as far as the eye could see. The skies were a deep starless black and through the heavy clouds of ash and soot, shone the full moon illuminating all that it could in a desperate attempt to provide some light on those departed souls that stood before me.