By EdwardWindsor 10 Comments
First there was the event, then the chaos and finally the fall. The event took us all by surprise the chaos was beyond our ability to control and fall was inevitable we where stretched to far and to thin. We all did the best we could but it wasn't good enough. The sky the sea and cities all burned the flames torching it all, leaving only this charred dust. The remnants of our civilization all but gone the survivors now more feral monsters than men our technologies spent and our resources near depleted.
It was now the time of every man for himself, former allies and enemies fighting for what little control can be had in these dark times, wars over scrap metal and murder for near spent batteries. And in the midst of it all was an old weary warrior king. His body beginning to fail him after years of valued service but he wasn't dead yet and he still had things to do, if he could hold out.
Now he had but one mission left in him try to make the east coast and see his homeland one last time. He's knees no longer able to handle the continued speed in which they once abused he would now walk the wastelands in search of a way home.