Home of Wes Platt and OtherSpace MUSH
The horse reared back on its hind legs, pistoning the front hooves just inches above the snout of a Nall warrior named Ralk of Hatch Kavir. Heavy shadows danced along the pebbled flesh of the warrior’s snout as he cradled the plasma rifle, coils burning hot and ready to open fire. Several of his comrades…
The squeegee squeaked against the dusty window of the fifth floor office building that overlooked downtown Eiru on Pyracan. Billy Lucas carried that black plastic tool with him like a sacred scepter, a holy relic from a lost age, but he liked to think that he wielded it with the finesse of a sharp-eyed gunslinger….
The one thing he liked most about the office was the chair. Cushiony, but firm. It felt used, but not worn out. He hated the coffee, though. Didn’t stop him from drinking it. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Raleigh?” asked Garrett Underhill, chief therapist for the San Angeles Police Department. He glanced at his…
The scaled hand drew back the pale yellow sheet, revealing a gaunt olive-skinned face framed by loose-hanging silver hair. “Yes. That’s him. Odalath. Emissary of the Order of Mystics on Val Shohob.” Balthazar didn’t weep for his son. He shed no tears. That time had passed. He looked toward the Zangali coroner and asked, “Did…