Born of opposing forces, the storm took life far out on the wild and savage sea. Like so many things, it started small, quickly growing as it fed
on stresses created by pressure systems. Gaining strength rapidly, it began
traveling towards land. It went slowly at first, but as it continued to
strengthen it sped up until it was rushing at breakneck speed. Terrible winds
whipped the waves into a frothing frenzy while driving rain came down in sheets so thick it was impossible to see more than a few feet. The central eye barely
a mile wide, and seemed to shrink as the system grew stronger. Powerful gusts
reached two hundred miles an hour in the dense eye wall. The storm was the
powerful seen in thousands of years on Albador. Sea animals and birds caught in its fury were left dead in its wake. Others fled its wake at the first hint of
warning. On the land ahead, doors were barred and windows were shuttered as folk raced to prepare against its arrival. Whispers and fearful glances at the
darkening sky urged them faster.

Storm fall was announced with hundred-foot high waves driven
by fierce winds. In great stone harbor of Cornorat, the primary port of
Berensir, great ships were broken free of their moorings and dashed against the docks, or snatched by the wind and hurled ashore. Meeting no resistance on the flat shoreline, the waves covered far inland. Trees that had stood for a thousand years were snapped like twigs and homes that had stood for years against time and storm were blown away or had their roofs ripped off; their occupants  screaming in terror.   

Inland, the storm met its first real obstacle, a great
divide, where the ground abruptly rose in a steep cliff for thousands of miles.
Called the Wall of the World, it was capped by a metal wall a few paces from
the edge, gleaming and smooth-faced. The storm seemed to roar in fury at the lack of purchase here. Shrieking in rage, it continued past, terrorizing the
inhabitants of the great plain that lay past the wall.  Past the plain, it found an inscrutable foe.

Towering more than a mile into the sky at its lowest point, the great mountain
range were eternal sentinels, standing fast against it. The storm hurled the
last of its strength against these stone giants, battering at them with the
last of its great winds and lashing at them with freezing rain. Seemingly
exhausted by its efforts, the storm turned north, dying out as it entered the
frozen wastelands beyond.