500 days after a wizard cursed the REALM…
Current Version:
The night ends. Sunlight filters through the pines. And the Samhain Elves stumble back to their caves.
Too much chaos. Too much drink. Too much chocolate.
They curse their mice-sized horses for leaving the party early. “Designated driver, my ass.”
Hemlock-tipped arrows drag through the dirt as they walk. A wave. A nod. A friendly knock on the head with a human rib.
“Same time next year, fellows.”
Web3 Draft:
- Listed on OpenSea
- Listed on Rarible
Revision Notes:
To be added.
