The sun rises over the small hamlet of Gilden. Anordo Wilpace wakes from a night of fitful, restless sleep, his leg hanging off his small bed. His tiny one room home is plenty for him, always has been. Gilden is not an exciting place to live, but it is home. Anordo shakes his head to clear the cobwebs, but finds that he cannot remember anything. He knows his name, he knows he lives in Gilden, but beyond that... not so much. What in the hell did I drink last night?, he wonders. Probably some of Old Wallace's homebrew. That shit was never easy on the system for the best of batches. He walks over to the the table, surveying the stale bread and wooden mug containing some mysterious liquid. "Ugh.." he mutters to himself. He hears a rooster crowing outside, and knows that his day is about to begin. But, what does he do for a living? He doesn't remember.
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4/18/2021 1:18:53 AM
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