Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
"Standing before a well hole is the hulking shape of a huge Drakkar. In his hands is a banner which shines with white fire, a crescent moon embroidered in silver on its white silk. With a hollow laugh the Drakkar breaks the shaft over his black armoured knee and a wail rises from the assembled ghosts. You try to reach forwards, but out of the well climb dismembered children’s hands scuttling over you in an overwhelming wave of clawing horror."