A laboratory of invention, a home for stream of consciousness scribbles, passages of undetermined length, and discombobulated story fragments.
Updated Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
We crawled on the ground in the darkness to avoid getting caught. It was the only thing we could do. Mercentile bargains and betrayal come hand in hand. We had our own hand to play, mind you, but like a good game of cards, we lost to better players.
Yogh caught the worst of it. Quite literally, the trap sprung, the crossbow bolt fired and pierced his neck. A high stakes game indeed! Yogh lived, somehow. The bastard has the luck of an alleycat. We left him for dead, of course, and he hasn't let us forget it. His voice is a little hoarse these days, but he's still in the game.
That was two years ago, and our friendly foes have propsered and now run the second largest mercantile company in the region. There isn't a commodity they don't trade in, and that, my friend, their greed, will be the wherefore of their downfall.