"When the eyes had been given, and the tongues had been taken, one verse remained on the lips of the knights: ALL HAIL THE CARRION KING" "All Hail The Carrion King" The words rolled off the lips of the pallid jester that washed up on the shores of Brookshire on that fateful summer evening. A jester, that to all appeared dead, but nonetheless got up and made his way into town. A town on the eastern fringe...