Date Range
Date Range
Date Range
Thursday, February 26, 2009. This sprawling, two story building sits halfway down the main street.
Thursday, February 26, 2009. The owner of this tailor shop clearly takes pride in his business, as the entire store is impeccable. At a workbench in the back sits the tailor himself, a man named Ned. You can hear the bustle of the market street.
Thursday, February 26, 2009. The smell of raw meat permeates this building, and blood spatters stain the floor. Towards the back stands a muscular, balding man with eyes that seem. Still, you finish your business and rush out into the central street. A madman obsessed with his friends, his games, and his schoolwork. I am, that is.
Thursday, February 26, 2009. The crumbling well, long unused, lies at the base of the clocktower. The smell of still water floats up from below, and a young man. Sits on the edge of the well. Not too far off, towards the market street. Lies a strange boarded up stairwell leading underground. A madman obsessed with his friends, his games, and his schoolwork. I am, that is.
A madman obsessed with his friends, his games, and his schoolwork. I am, that is.
Thursday, February 26, 2009. The crumbling well, long unused, lies at the base of the clocktower. The smell of still water floats up from below, and a young man. Sits on the edge of the well. Not too far off, towards the market street. Lies a strange boarded up stairwell leading underground. A madman obsessed with his friends, his games, and his schoolwork. I am, that is.
A madman obsessed with his friends, his games, and his schoolwork. I am, that is.
Thursday, February 26, 2009. The tall, imposing clocktower is clearly quite old. A heavy steel double door, carved with intricate designs, seals the stone building. Nearby sit a pile of crates and boxes. To the other side of the tower is an old well. And it looks like someone has dug up the dirt next to the door. A madman obsessed with his friends, his games, and his schoolwork. I am, that is.
Thursday, February 26, 2009. Ancient treasure troves are said to lie down here. but also, some say the Rat King. A madman obsessed with his friends, his games, and his schoolwork. I am, that is.