@brothersof-blu asked for a starter!
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It was quiet in the graveyard, but a scarecrow sat at the top of Spiral Hill. He was cross-legged, and three flames floated mid-air in front of him. One flickered, and the pumpkin head turned slightly.
“Thomas,” he projected, despite the whispered voice. “It is rude to lurk among the graves, unless you wish to reside there.” It was a strain, but it sounded familiar.








