WriteByte

It is a winters day in the land of Fogahr and a storm is raging over the city of Kalgrof, the winds are blowing gale force and hail stones as big as apples are causing large dents in foofs and on the stones of the road.

But all this is lost on an old man with a long white and grey beard sitting in a study room bent over a desk with a pen in his hand, he writes…

‘My name is Rogad, I am the Knight of the city of Kalgrof.’

‘I am old and I wish to tell my story with ink and paper so it may not get lost through the mist of time.’

‘I am about to tell you all of a great adventure, the story of how I came from a normal boy in a small villiage… to a great knight of the land of Fogahr…’