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Weekly Contest #101
Early morning hours are known for three things: darkness, mist, and misfortune. At the third stroke of the clock, darkness and mist were abounding. Several silhouettes broke off from the daunting shadow, that was the forest’s edge. In the middle, hung a man’s limp body, the young master of the castle. Flanking him were his steward, Sebastian, and stable hand, Grayson. The men neared the castle, their pace slow, weary. “Why do I feel so awful? What dire straits befell me?” moaned the young man. “You’ve been in a nasty carriage accident, dea...
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