07-03-2015, 06:31 PM
The Mores, the Pale, Pale Moors. We were human, having fun in a land of paradise, then all of it was gone at one. They took our lives and now we roam this land as sentient and mindless undead. We look up at the summer sunlight stretching across the day's sky and with much delight we pluck from it its eternal light and then the sky becomes like us, a pitch black starless with a bloody moon every time. The Mores, the Pale, Pale Mores with the pillars of smoke rises from the ashes on the ground has choked us all down... Suffocating the ignition of a fire, and cursing us to roam as zombies and vampires under the rule of the Count Dracula. It's quite spectactular under the rule of Count Dracula, he rules with an iron, dark power is his bliss...