The book of John Doe
The tavern door creaks as you push it open, the smell of oil and old smoke washing over you once more. Continue Reading
The tavern door creaks as you push it open, the smell of oil and old smoke washing over you once more. Continue Reading →
The caravan departs Al-Mazir before dusk, winding eastward along an old trade road gouged into the desert by centuries of passing hooves and wheels. Continue Reading →
You stay still, letting the fight play out.
The sun watches, cruel and high, as Saheb slams the hilt of his blade into your guide’s ribs, driving him to one knee. Continue Reading →
The sword is in your hand before you even realize you’ve drawn it.
You step into the circle, your voice sharp as flint: Continue Reading →
You stare at the snarling pack.
Your heart races. Sand clings to your skin Continue Reading →
You meet it midair, blade flashing. The impact jars your shoulder, but the steel bites deep, and the beast crumples at your feet with a strangled yelp. Continue Reading →
You turn to the magus.
—He comes with me.
The magus studies your guide for a long moment. Continue Reading →
The desert opens before you like a wound slowly healing over. Continue Reading →
The desert tightens around you.
You ride single file, the guide in front, Robert behind. No one speaks. Continue Reading →
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Encore une larme égarée Continue Reading →