The reign of Sheboss Barina was one of the most splendid in CroNulla history. But it ended in disaster. While the aristocrats and courtiers, even some generals and officers, lived securely behind the walls of CBD, the soldiers who manned the border posts and boundary forts struggled against a rising tide of Oztrakii tribes. These tribes were always waiting, testing the strength and resolve of the CroNullas, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of weakness. So when the heart of the empire turned soft and rotten, they did just that.
Across the land there was much destruction, much pillaging and looting and letting of blood. Ordinary folk scurried for cover like frightened animals. The more well-to-do tried to buy their safety. It made no difference, though, for no one was safe from the Oztrakii.
It was upon the tiny city of CBD that the barbarians vented their greatest fury. They burnt and smashed and tore down everything. The palaces and temples and great halls were torched, the plazas and gardens and fountains destroyed. The many statues of the city were shattered, those of every Sheboss, every great General and every CroNulla god. It was said that they even burnt the wonderful books of Yrec the Yarncarrier, the heavy volumes in which the myths and legends of Cronulla lore had been faithfully recorded. In the end, nothing remained but ruin and rubble, ash and smoke.
And yet, even within such despair lay the tiniest seeds of hope.
to read an extract from GBH