Just Another Fantasy

The sun lavished the meadow in sweet summertime sunlight, the wind whipped up stray leaves and petals into the air above the tall grass to perform a dance, birds called out to one another of the approaching danger. Of them. The approaching danger was not a fat housecat that had strayed from the village for a hunt, but rather brutish soldiers come to claim wood from the trees that bordered the meadow. Far beyond the colour and life of the meadow lay a citadel made of brilliant white stone, it had burrowed its way into the mountain like a parasite long ago, now erupting out of the sides like bones from broken flesh. It had many names in many dialects, most only referred to it as the private residence of a foul, power-hungry despot, the place from whence these soldiers came. She did not wish to return to that accursed place.

This is a Dungeons and Dragons inspired story!