Late is the hour, dark the night. Clouds blanket out the moon and stars. A lone figure is seen slipping out of the forest and onto the main road leading into the village, in search of it's doctor.
Lounging around in the Cantina, Kolburn kept a watchful, yet unassuming eye on those around him as he finished the last morsels of what passed for a meal in this joint. Brushing off the crumbs, he glanced round, careful not to make eye contact with any of the other patrons who might later remember him as he made his way unobserved to the entrance and out into the cold of the port. He would come back and pay off his mounting tab, when he next came across a few credits, or found another odd job. After all, he wasn’t completely without his honour, unlike some people.
"Getting their attention is easy, you just need to hold it. But that doesn't concern you. Just make sure it's quick, then move on. You'll know when I wink."
“Many hungry people in these parts and the roads are dangerous. So you have a choice, you can give us most of your provisions to feed the starving, or all your silver to pass safely. The choice is yours, wanderer.”
In dark times people are willing to do and say anything for their salvation.
"What was i supposed to do it was just lying their!"
After succesfully killing his father in a military coup, for power, the self styled "Lord" Miranor, grabbed the reigns of control from his father, and began his military dictatorship.
"Daddy, daddy, why arent you moving answer me daddy" Kamira wept as she hugged her fathers cold body blood already congealing where the assassins dagger had been thrust.
In the far reaches of a long-lost wilderness, there stands a forgotten town inhabited only by children. Though they appear normal enough, their eyes burn with madness, and they speak in a foreign, archaic tongue. Nearly a millenia ago, a powerful spell had gone awry, or maybe it had succeeded - in any case, it ended up blessing, or cursing, an entire generation of children with agelessness. However, as the centuries passed, the children's parents grew old and died, the buildings of the town crumbled to earth, and even the civilization itself faded into history, becoming lost to time. All that remained were the children, driven mad by the psychological toll of living for hundreds of years beyond their age. In time, most children died, killed off by fighting amongst themselves, while many others were driven to suicide. Only a small handful remain, and they are a strange people indeed.