A waning moon has risen over High Phelan as Ayrik walks up to the old wood-and-stone building that Fade had mentioned. A small wooden sign hangs crooked on its pole, depicting a skeleton dancing on the end of a noose, a ghastly grin as only a skeleton can have etched onto its wooden face. After a few hours of imbibing, followed by a short snooze at the bar, Ayrik had woken up just as the clock over the inn's fireplace had struck 11:30. He had quickly grabbed his cloak and started off up the cobblestone road, following the directions the barman had given him. And now here he stands, looking around him in the dark for the strange cloaked man who called himself Fade. Somewhere in the distance, a church bell tolls midnight.
Wed Jul 10, 2013 3:45 pm
