Change Storms are storms of raw magic and occur frequently in the Nef lands.
Clinging green fog rolled through the city streets. Low-lying, it blended with the dirt and grime of the road. A tall, well-dressed man pulled a foot back, gasped, and flung his arm across the door barring another from stepping out. They backed a pace as the fog licked over the lintel careful not to let it touch them.
“How far does it go,” asked the second.
The first man carefully peered around the edge of the door squinting left then right. “I can’t tell. It’s moving in from the west.” Distant thunder rumbled. “Change storm. A big one, look. It’s moving in fast.” He blinked his eyes and caught back long white hair the wind was tying in knots.
To the west, lightning ripped across the sky illuminating a massive storm front. Within it, flashes like distant echoes sent jagged bolts of color crashing into the ground filling the night with an acrid smell.
A steady rumble vibrated up through their feet. “Get everybody to the safe room. We don’t have much time before it hits,” said the first. A wailing siren split the night. Lights flickered to life in the surrounding homes as panicked people found what shelter they could.