"I awoke with a sandpaper cheek, grains     |  sticky with my own blood.  I felt my       |  leg thick and numb; I didn't want to       |     G h o s t w h e e l  open my eyes.  The last I remembered       |  were the hounds--leaping at me, snapping   |  at my appendages.  I didn't want to        | `connect guest` -- newbies  wake to their foamy maws...                | `who`           -- user list                                             |  Just beyond my eyelids I sensed the        |  hungry growls, the heat of blood-bathed    | Mail quinn@fazigu.org with  breath, the morbid tickle of a snout       |    questions or comments.  probing my middle...                       |                                             |  My lips pressed a breathless "Amen" into   |  the dirt as I prayed for death before the  |  beasts grew hungry again."                 |

The apocalypse is a collective nightmare. Fading. Few remember what happened, and no witness lives to tell. Sometime, somehow, two millenia of civilization collapsed into dust. The past is a bleached skull on glowing sand. The future is now, and humanity crawls forward, shaking off its holocaust ashes. The Wasteland awaits. Read more at MUDConnector.Com

Ghostwheel Website
Ghostwheel Entry At MUDConnector.Com