The tower shines with neon and chrome in the dark night. A seventy storey steel and concrete monument to the avarice of Euphrates Corp, tinged with dazzling blues and pinks. From street level it blots out the moon. At the very top, behind innumerate layers of security, lies my best Continue Reading
The Man Who Would Be King (Part 3)
Blake could have sworn that a pint of ale in the Basilisk’s Brewhouse was just a littler larger and a little colder than they poured back in Hrothgar. This tavern was clearly the centre of social life in Estangull, with pretty girls dancing to a flautist’s ditty and burly regulars Continue Reading