Something Else, But What?

Something Else, But What? | The Red Raven, Part 3

Joseph DeCorvi . . . 

Was how how the letter began. When Joseph had found it tucked neatly into his back pocket a month ago he had been surprised, to say the least. Upon reading it, it had left him in a cold sweat.

I have heard that you are the right man for this particular job, or rather, for a job of this calibre. 

At the time he had been staying at a little inn near the shores of Waridge, an island located right on the border between Cannard and Oursar. Waridge profited from the two countries in trade, tourism, and as an official border crossing (of which only two ferrying companies legally benefited from). Another thing the island profited from was numbers. Its population was comparable to that of Tarano, comprising of many cultural groups.

We sketched a map! Now you can see into the future! Wait . . .

We sketched a map! Now you can see into the future! Wait . . .

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The Museum

The Museum

By Jacob Zaccaria

Soaring crystal spires of the metropolis gleamed in the sun’s first light as it’s inhabitants bustled like a million bees in a concrete hive. One could feel the buzz of the City all around them even now — if they took the time to shrug off their mindless march at all. A motley mix of vacant faces, one could argue that if you knocked off each and every last soul save one, they probably wouldn’t even notice a thing. Continue reading