Since very little I like stories. I learned how to read earlier than most, and split my time between inappropriate literature for my age and many comics.With great love for stories comes great love for making them, and my mom reminds me to this day when she came to my school to attend a children's essay exposition, andwhile some walls had been filled with various texts authored by the younglings, they had reserved one just for mine - It was about thirty pages long. I like to think of that time as the time I peaked.

At the early 2000's, while everyone was busy studying for high school exams or caught up in teenage adventures of love and mischief,me and some friends got together to enjoy such a John Hughes vibe and do the exact opposite of it: we played D&D.My ultimate group consisted of three members, DM included. Although we did try gaming with other people, none could develop the same chemistry we had and ended up abandoning the sessions. It didn't hamper our glorious campaign at all, which survived through good old years ... After all, since very little I like stories.

While we three are still friends, life changes especially after the tragedy of passing the entrance exam for college. Spread across different parts of the world, the cruelest andmost brutal of the consequences of this academic diaspora manifested itself in the fact that we never got to finish our campaign. You can't drop a story halfway, what manner of heresy is that?Even after promises and some attempts of 'revivals' there comes a time in the life of every mature man when you must accept that you've grown up.And that's why I still don't accept it and decided that if the mountain does not come to Mohammed, Mohammed goes to the mountain.

Abnor is the offspring to this frustration. It is faintly based on those adventures I shared with my friends, but as every perfectly good kid who writes more than he should,I made sure to change almost everything about them. Based on real events that might have happened, so to speak. More than I do for you, I write this story for me, and if all goeswell it will finally have its deserving conclusion. Maybe I should call school and demand they reserve more walls?