The Machine of Wester Moorley (§.02)

§.02 Albrecht shoveled the jam-and-butter-slathered bread into his mouth as Otto consulted a small glass of whiskey. Otto sipped and gestured to the jellied-roll on the engineer's plate. "You're lucky. We're nearly at the last of it." "Of the bread you mean?" Otto nodded and held up the glass, swirling the amber liquid. "Bread and… Continue reading The Machine of Wester Moorley (§.02)

The Machine of Wester Moorley (§.01)

§.01 The barton of Nilreb sat upon a dry, razored plain, encircled by high and jagged mountains of reddish-beige stone that looked from afar like the fangs of some ancient and gargantuan beast. Only one road let in from the outer world to that wasted space and upon it, a lone man strode, a thin… Continue reading The Machine of Wester Moorley (§.01)