I should be burned, dead and buried. God knows, I could have helped them burn. Soap does burn, does it not? I am made of ash and oil. Twas my place to soothe, though. To aid. To cleanse. My current station? To laquer a haunted Thane with fresh layers of guilt, year by year. They … More Thane Of Strife
My cursed maker. They bound him within his forge till he finished me, and their goadings finished him. Thrice cursed was his mind, and his body followed. Rather than make any more of their cruel designs he beat his own eyes to pulp with his hammer, and cursing his Gods thrust his clever hands in … More Bane of Cawdor. II
Have you ever felt the true pulse of another? When the heart is driven only by impulse and instinct? Perhaps when pressed close, by happy circumstance or mutual exertion. Has your own heartbeat quickened in response? If not, then stop listening. This is a tale of throbbing and intrigue, not fit for dainty ears. Read … More Bane of Cawdor.I.