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A small volume sits somewhere deep under a shelf, covered in dust of days long past. A small spider lays shining thin lines of glistening gossamer over the cover, waiting for its next meal. Within th ...

The grin on the small boy's face was enough, just enough for her. She didn't need to hear the jubilant laughter and reitterated praise. She knew all too well that soon, something as simple as a woode ...

The ink does its dance once more...

Once more the whip fell across the back of the gaunt young man, landing upon old scars, and opening the skin once more. He grimaced, but did not cry out. Years o ...

I must confess you have me on that one...no one can know all, so say the tomes of old and wise men alike.

His father was King Wolfgang.

Nice try. *dips his head slowly*

*dips his hood towards Trillin*

Stepping into the dark library, he finds his way almost mechanically to his post, no need for candles to light the familiar way, the stones warm under his boots. The smell of old parchements and bindi ...