It was a musty old thing. Looked like it would fall apart if a strong enough wind came through, but The Fool's End was the only rest house he had come across in the last two days, and his legs were tired, and his joints were beginning to ache. There was something about the thick damp air of the...
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.