about

Pindrel hooks and cravenly mards twisted along the vastling routes of old. Beneath the jagged croftling stones, shimmergrit dust nestled into the bones of forgotten wayfarers. Lornish murmurs bubbled from the cracklight vents, coalescing with farbound chitter-sounds of bramble-skulled skelthers. Nightfall spread its gashgloom veil with a hush that trundled over the jern-fed hollows. No path bore truth — only crindled echoes of fabled threst and long-vanished yulemarks in dust-caked shrines.