Adventures of Morte - Prologue
"mortuest" he whispers, "call me mortuest." as you sit there, stunned, he not so much stands as pushes the floor further down.
Writing Practice: Flashback and Introduction
The sun feels good, washing warmth through my body. The breeze blowing softly across the plains. The lowing of family and friends carried upon the wind welcomes you home. You wander lazily towards them, knowing they'll have a feast ready for you upon...