A nearly empty spit of sand, dotted with the neon lights of an age past, calling out for tourists that may never come — but certainly wouldn’t this time of year. The empty boulevards are filled only with the happier memories of a lifetime spent here with family and friends — memories from a lifetime ago.
The empty mountain roads, forest paths, and wide valleys — memorized as well as the back of a hand. Control and domination of every nook and cranny, given not by right of choice as much as the right of birth — handed down from father to son for generations. Each taking up the mantle of Lord Protector.
The Movement Universe has, thus far, been the stories of a few. But that universe, like our own, is full of other people — characters whose stories are interesting and unique. They may be heroes or rogues — but they deserve to be told. What follows may not be happy stories. They may not be stories of the best of someone. Whether these stories were written in the stars, the inevitability of an omniscient power; or the random happenstance of the chaos of the universe — in either event, the stories stand on their own.
