Uroborus has no moon. So, its brightest nights are star lit. Emlis blinks at the twinkling things too far away for his imagination to grasp. He rubs his arms, wincing as his callused palms scrape like sandpaper.
Farts and the foul breath of a dozen and more naked men crowd around him. The dim light hints at their mix of hardy humanoid races.
He has broken dirt with this crew for weeks, working on the Endless Road and the multitude of paths branching off to the north and south. The dwarves and the single elf have the gift of nighteyes, but this does not save them from the cold blowing up from the Southwild’s winter.
Emlis clears his throat. “It’s like a white dragon is breathing on us tonight. Anyone willing to risk a fire?”
A gruff voice says, “Fire would bring the monster horde, dumbass.” Continue reading Uroborus, Men’s Night Out