I stand at the edge of the world -- my world. Waiting. For what? I don't know. I never know what may be coming. What darkness may be lurking in the shadows of the trees. What evil may be creeping toward my fortress as dusk approaches. There is no way to know what may happen. … Continue reading The Guardian
A cold and stony fortress Stands molding in the forest
They’re coming. The only thing in his mind. The only thing he seemed sure of anymore.