bye duncan, fare thee well…
we lost the fighter clad in plate mail - duncan was his name… constricted to unpleasant death - may the one light of good and pure lead him on his trek to the underworld…
i meditated in the garden district with its cobbled paths and fountains of old dragons and exotic fish… an image of the elderly elf, talorg the absurd, was etched in my mind’s eye… tarkan shortstone’s crooked house…
the cairns of winduk - air - ria - the prophecy de les sangworm… the rod of seven parts… the octopus…