I can't help but think that it's the story of the Vampyr and the Darhakkan all over again.

( Read more... )

I stepped out of the Acrolica and onto the road, which was still scattered with the debris of my earlier entry--shingles and splinters, flakes of paint fallen like hard snow across the pavement. The houses kept the road open, though they still clustered against the Acrolica wall in a kind of fatalistic horror. The atmosphere, both of abandonment ( Read more... )

I think you would help me if you had the chance.

( Read more... )

The wind picked up as I was on my way to see the Lóngs. A Nor'Easter. I have no idea whether that cretch of dragons had the ability to control the wind, but at that point it seemed ludicrous to suggest that any torment I suffered didn't spring directly from their scaly hands, so I blamed it on them anyway. In retrospect that was probably the ( Read more... )

Let me begin by saying this: the worst piece of advice you may ever receive is "let sleeping dragons lie." I say this not out of any particular desire to bother the damn things, but because while they're asleep is practically the only time you can convince the bastards to tell the truth. Had I known that, it would have taken me almost three years ( Read more... )