The other wayfarers were eyeing Gwin, all of them shameless about it. Not just because he was the only Avian waiting in the mayor's antechamber, but because he was a Red Markison. There were over a hundred races of Avian across the world, with far more visual distinctions than human races. Dramatic differences in crests,... Continue Reading →
Drafts – The Steelskins
Musa almost walked into them. Coming out of Lucky's, pulling his coat tight against the cloud-dimmed afternoon, he didn't notice the steelskins until there were six of them, in varying degrees of contrapposto. Only one of them eyed Musa--a stern look through a dented visor, promising there were no answers to be had here. The... Continue Reading →
Inktrap 