swooniemoonie

A Meeting at Gravesend The stout man had a smirk which could rival that of the shadiest Nox Knight, he stroked his wispy beard of white and looked out at the small gathering in the darkened Inn. His artificial eye swivelled around in the bronze socket, the pupil a deep blood red. His other eye was unseen as the lids were stitched together in a crude manner, almost as if he had done it himself. Despite the man's roguish appearance all that he wore was of the finest materials, from the intricately designed bronze eye socket to the Hogback hide which made up the boots in which his leg stumps were stuffed. He blew out a billow of greenish-purple