There was no villager as could place the dead king’s face, though we searched ourselves for a clue
But the dragons flew down, and by the fire that flared in their eyes, we could tell at least two the dead man well knew— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) January 26, 2020
He was old and jaded, that slaver bold, with many a scar marking his belly
But the slaver dropped his goad and stopped gnawing on his latest toad
When the enchanted sword spilled out his guts like jelly— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) January 27, 2020
There are forest fey who just grip your soul, and hold you hard like a spell
And such was she, and she looked to me like a lady who sought lovers in Hell— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) January 30, 2020