Archemir

Raethur Aelthas sat there, sipping water from the crystal goblet that rested before him. He looked at the grimy water, seeing chunks of unknown materials floating within its depths. His face contorted with disgust, but he drank it anyways, not wanting to offend the garish creature that sat across from him, watching his every move. He pretended that he had had a coughing fit in order to spit the water out onto the dirt floor. He looked around to see where he was and saw the simple stone table and wooden chairs in which he and the orc were sitting were all that were in the room. He looked out the door and saw several little children playing in

Ode To Being A Zombie It all started with one horrid bite, Given by someone hungry with spite. First I became sick, then slowly got worse, Slowly I changed, by infection or curse. Attempted to save me, the doctors did try, It happened so quick, my mutation so sly. I leapt with a chomp, in search of a taste, Surprised were they, as I lay them to waste. I trudged away, looking for edible gore, I gaped around where were my undead corps? Where can I find food, so tender, so lush? I crave the flavor of a fleshly blush. On top of that building, inside of that house? I'll endlessly stalk, like the cat to a mouse. And then, just what n