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John Langdale |
There is a mountain even the weather avoids. Clouds skirt by it like oil around a soap bubble. The ground is cracked and dusty, with only the most hostile of bramble-plants choking the mountain's approach. Still, despite the lack of vegetation, the place is a maze.
Perhaps after a couple of hours of marching in circles near the peak a traveler might see something strange - an over-sized seed wit
h an eye (painted?) on it, lying in the dust. It's about as big as a tennis ball, and not much heavier.
Soon the seeds are everywhere.
Then the travelers stumble upon the town.