Cragmen In a daze, Martin VanHobby awakens. Wearing nothing but a tattered loincloth and his fish shoes, Martin shields his eyes from the three suns piercing his vision as he struggles to get off his back. Disoriented, he grabs onto a nearby boulder for stability and lifts himself to his feet. He feels the scales in his shoes fold around the tough terrain surrounding him. His eyes begin to adjust and Martin takes a look around. He is surrounded by red rocks varying from monstrous boulders to miniscule shards of red stone that resemble the pet amoeba people keep locked away in their cellars. “What is going on…?” Martin is at a loss of words. He feels the sweat dripping off his nose, it’s 130 degrees and his shoes are beginning
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The pain is too much, unable to fight the urge to scream, Martin cries for help that will never come. Once his bones have been mashed, Zowler reaches into the ground and pulls out a device that, unlike like everything else here, is not made of rock, but human flesh and a small computer screen.
A thin beam ignites from a hole in the flesh and rushes over Martin’s body, he watches in agony as his bones reconstruct themselves in the light. Only to have Zowler destroy them over twice more.
Unable to speak, or even make a noise, Martin feels his tongue dry up, it’s like he’s chewing on granite. Next comes his nose, he watches as his pasty skin hardens into a reddish rock. The blank face of Zowler watches from afar, a smug smile on his face.
“MAKE IT STOP PLEASE I WILL DO ANYTHING!” Martin pleads with Zowler, but the cragman watches on in silence, as Martin feels his human traits solidify and meld with the stone chair he rests on.
“Now is your true punishment,” Zowler grabs Martin’s stone body in and drgas him into the shadows away from the purple flame. Blinded by real sunlight, Zowler steps out into the daylight and treks down a winding
The pain is too much, unable to fight the urge to scream, Martin cries for help that will never come. Once his bones have been mashed, Zowler reaches into the ground and pulls out a device that, unlike like everything else here, is not made of rock, but human flesh and a small computer screen.
A thin beam ignites from a hole in the flesh and rushes over Martin’s body, he watches in agony as his bones reconstruct themselves in the light. Only to have Zowler destroy them over twice more.
Unable to speak, or even make a noise, Martin feels his tongue dry up, it’s like he’s chewing on granite. Next comes his nose, he watches as his pasty skin hardens into a reddish rock. The blank face of Zowler watches from afar, a smug smile on his face.
“MAKE IT STOP PLEASE I WILL DO ANYTHING!” Martin pleads with Zowler, but the cragman watches on in silence, as Martin feels his human traits solidify and meld with the stone chair he rests on.
“Now is your true punishment,” Zowler grabs Martin’s stone body in and drgas him into the shadows away from the purple flame. Blinded by real sunlight, Zowler steps out into the daylight and treks down a winding