Reverend Elias Crowforde
In the stillness of night she crept beside me, her face pale as a shroud, her eyes like coals banked in ash. She murmured, “Think not of freedom, for thy soul is chained to mine, as corpse to coffin.” At these words her hand grew colder than winter’s...
Scented Earth Page Reverend Elias Crowforde - on New World Guide Database of Lore
In the stillness of night she crept beside me, her face pale as a shroud, her eyes like coals banked in ash. She murmured, “Think not of freedom, for thy soul is chained to mine, as corpse to coffin.” At these words her hand grew colder than winter’s grave, and trembling seized her frame. With lips that reeked of earth newly broken, she kissed me, and I felt the long hunger of the dead.
