“Any last requests?” Flames licked the dragon’s scaly lips as she leered at the knight splayed beneath her talons. “Just one.” The knight tossed his golden curls. “Try not to singe my hair.” The notice hung from the cathedral gate: Funeral Service Tonight For Sir Primpsalot the Vain (Closed casket) Lady Devon the Thoughtful has never … Continue reading DEVON R WIDMER: The Tale of Sir Primpsalot
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