All I can say is I hope you enjoy and escape for a bit!


Raindrops danced upon the wide brim of Eirene's weathered hat as she ventured out into the relentless deluge. Her attire was entirely practical, designed for survival is strapped to her thigh, resting comfortably within arm's reach. Her bow and what few arrows she still had lay in a quiver strapped to her back, knocking around as she walked.

Her wandered to the outskirts of town and arrived at a narrow footbridge that stretched high above the churning waters below. The rain poured unabated into the vast basin beneath, an unyielding cascade that seemed to mock the resilience of the land's few remaining inhabitants.

Eirene pressed forward, gritting her teeth at the wet that was gripping her stringy hair as the wind flung it in her face. Her destination lay beyond the other side of the footbridge, in one of the last remaining bastions of green that had managed to withstand the ceaseless storms the past few years. Here, despite all odds, life still clung tenaciously to the earth, though Eirene knew its grip weakened with each passing day.

As she approached the grassy forest, her gaze lifted to the towering trees above. The game had become elusive. Not that there was ever much, but the animals that remained wilde here have been, driven to the highest branches by the ever-rising waters. Eirene entered under the light canopy and began quietly examining her surroundings.

Tall rainforest trees provided a little shelter from the pelting rain and wind. She wiped her hair from her face and repositioned some strays under her hat. The raindrops hit her waxed cotton jacket with thick thuds as she situated herself and took in the surroundings, and began her hunt.

Tracking in the rain was a pain in the ass, her boots were wading through about two inches of water already. With each drop, tracks got wiped clean, and forest life became more and more scarce. This cycle of storms has been going on for about a year now, and it shows no sign of letting up any time soon.

Lyranth has been under an assault of storms for the past few hundred years. They don't quite know when it started, or why. The rain level and storm severity comes and goes. Eirene was lucky enough to have been born in a time of overcast skies, she didn't experience her first stormy season until the age of 7. This season of storms has stuck around for longer than usual, sometimes Eirene can't remember what the sunlight felt like on her face.

Eriene was now 19 and no longer a child who dreamed of feeling a warm breeze or basking in the sun. Her golden eyes carried the weight of a thousand stormy nights. Beneath her eyes, faint shadows lingered on her too-pale skin, testament to the countless sleepless nights she had endured, lying awake and cursing the sound of the thunder. Her thin face and frame stood, shaking in the cold and rain. The content and town was good at stockpiling resources, if you had the money.

Eirene's life had been irrevocably changed on that fateful day, the first of the storm season. The people of the town were hurriedly preparing for the impending storms. They didn't know how long they would be around for this time, the last cycle had lasted almost twenty years. But this time, the skies were particularly unforgiving, and the rain fell as if it had a grudge on Lyranth.

Her parents, like many others, had done their best to secure shelter and supplies, but the storm's fury exceeded all expectations. As the storm raged on, lightning shot across the sky with blinding intensity, followed by earth-shattering peals of thunder that seemed to shake the earth to it's core. Some people had said it seemed as though the lightning was trying to break apart the world.

Amidst the chaos, Eirene's parents had been outside, attempting to reinforce their home's defenses against the torrential rains and howling winds. It was a cruel twist of fate that as they worked tirelessly to protect their family, they were struck down by a bolt of lightning that seemed to descend from the very heart of the storm. The scorched earth beneath where they stood was all that remained as the rising water washed away ashes in one fell swoop.

The thunderous roar that followed was not just a natural phenomenon; it was a wail of grief that mimicked Eirene's own.

In the aftermath, Eirene was left not only grieving the loss of family. The though that her parents' meager savings and stockpile of resources had been consumed by the storm's wrath was of little to no consequence. She was a young girl of 7. The storms would claim her soon enough. The devastation was so widespread that even those who had money and resources found themselves struggling to recover.

The loss of her parents should have been the end of it. The storm should have claimed her too she thought, as if it sought to consume her very soul in its wrath. But it didn't. With grim determination, a young Eirene gathered what supplies she could salvage from the wreckage of her home and hunkered down within the remnants of her family's shelter.

In those initial days of the storm, she clung to life with a ferocity that mirrored the storm's fury. Defiant. She rationed her meager provisions, a young girl didn't need much. The wind howled outside like a wolf, rattling the fragile remains of her refuge, but Eirene refused to yield. It was a daily struggle not to succumb to despair. Sometimes she wished the storm would claim her as it had taken her parents.

And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the rain began to slow to a mere trickle. The relentless downpour that had haunted her days and nights eventually ceased, leaving behind a haunting stillness. But the clouds remained, an ever-present reminder of the tempest's looming return.

In the days that followed, a fragile calm settled over the land, and Eirene ventured cautiously from her shelter. The once-vibrant world she had known was now a sodden, desolate landscape, marked by scars carved deep by the storm's fury. The town she had called home lay in ruins, its buildings reduced to mere memories.

Her once full and curly hair that was always wild and untamed now lay a stringy wet mop atop her head. She didn't even remember what her hair looked like without the constant moisture to it.

Every few days or weeks, a storm would once again rock the land, unleashing its destructive power upon the already battered continent. Each time, those that could would repair what they could, hunt, and keep surviving, knowing that their respite would be short-lived, and the cycle of devastation and recovery would continue.

Walking through these woods, her boots making twacking sounds as the mud and earth beneath them gripped her, her eyes caught a glimpse of movement in the trees above. Her fingers tightened around the bow at her side, and she slowly and carefully nocked an arrow, her movements precise and practiced.

She drew the bowstring taut, her muscles slowly tensing, her breath synchronizing with the rhythm of the rain. Her eyes locked onto a pair of squirrels darting through the branches, their tails flickering like flames against the dark canopy.

In a heartbeat, her arrow was released, soaring through the rain-soaked air and hitting its mark.

The thud to the ground and the sound of something hitting the water meant success and a warm meal tonight, but there was no exultation in her heart. She lowered her bow and retrieved the lifeless squirrel and put it in her pack.

After a few more hours of searching, she returned home with not one but two squirrels and a handful of fish. Eirene returned to the path and found the footbridge and began the trek back to town.