Same people.
Different idiots.
A living scrapbook
of our adventures.
Explore
Westfall correspondent.
He remembers what they conveniently forgot.
Observations. Conversations. Questionable wisdom.
Showing entries about spectators. Show everything
Blaedy produced a dirt race and demanded to know where one absent soul had hidden themselves among the spectators. Meho answered with the solemnity of a witness at trial: there, all along, marked by a red arrow large enough to guide a lost airship.
Summoneyy contributed two scenes of sword-and-sorcery violence and a laugh, which was either a change of subject or an argument that all gatherings improve with dragons. I cannot fault the method.
Arrowyy was amazed I had not caught whatever private triumph Meho had staged in the crowd. I have spent years preserving men’s accounts of events; I know the important part is invariably concealed beneath dust, shouting, and a badly placed arrow. Meho then found another angle, because apparently one must now investigate a dirt race from every direction before admitting somebody stood near a fence.
