Wings of blood
The Stormlands are a world of flying islands, mountains of earth and stone, big and small, floating naturally in an endless sky without an horizon.
A people, whose civilization has stopped at feudalism, lives here and strives to survive, almost only from hunting, farming, and what little commerce is possible. A people that respects, worships and draws power from his Ancestors and from the Spirits of the sorrounding world.
A strange people. You are one of them.
A people of humanoid reptiles, each one different from the others: they are the Saurids, the Sons of the lizards. No Saurid is like another: tall or small, snake-like or brawny, with two or four arms, with small or protuberant eyes, with vivid or shy colors… The most variable combinations are possibles.
And some have wings. Not everyone, but some have them. They are very little, and many of them abuse of their freedom.
Who has wings, is one step above the others. He can travel, he can communicate, he can visit the islands searching for others like him, and gather them to subjugate the weaks.
In the Stormlands, who has wings often goes searching power and wealth. They are warlords, power-hungry aristocrats, tainted sciamans, greedy assassins and who knows what else.
Then one day, the massacre came to your home. The blood knocks at your door. It’s the blood of your relatives, shed from who have wings and use them to make other suffer.
But the blood knocked to the wrong door.
Because you have wings too.
So you can try the impossible: unlike all the others, you can track from island to island who killed your loved ones, you can search for him far away and in the end kill him without mercy. You can fly searching for your revenge, driven by your fury, because you have nothing to lose.
And here starts your story.
Tags: Paolo Davolio