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28th of the moon umber

The city is empty. There are stray dogs and goats, scavenging seabirds, but no people to be seen. The most recent broadsheets we can find are dated 11th of the moon umber.

Something tumbles out of a doorway further up the street. An ancient, emaciated looking man with a blindfold around his eyes. Nanda addresses him in Taji.
Continue reading ‘It’s gargoyles all the way down’

Good hope

Take the high path

Going underground

Fever Pitch

Ghost of an illusion

Ghost Mates