El-Quanjugono

Falling down the black abyss, he could see the blade coming from a mile away out of the chasms of memory, gleaming in no light and held by no man.  It slit through the darkness flying up to meet him as he fell, whistling through the air before it met him.  Cold wind became still and hot, the world washed in desert light.  Steel met flesh with an edged blade.  Sharp point running down Wolf's face splitting skin open straight and clean.  Arms lock and wills tangle as Alex pushes his assassin back, fresh blood trickling down his cheek, mouth set in a vicious snarl, eyes burning like hot coals.

His almond shaped eyes lazily open, dark brown eyes accustomed to the dark staring straight ahead.  A sense of being carried tries to worm its way into the boy's sleepy conscious, but never makes it when the child sees his father in the darkness.  It scared him at first, seeing this tall man looming, shrouded in shadow.  Father wasn't the nicest man Michael knew, standing in the darkness rigid, but a sleepy calm came over him, reminding him that the scary man in front of him was no one other than father, and that he was safe. "Pah," the boy mumbled, sleep and a much too large tongue making it difficult for him to speak. The man flinched, an

PAX ET AMOR The white fires of the sun baked the desert into a burning waste until the very earth was hot enough to vaporize water into steam. The breeze blew and it felt like fire against Rojo's  darkened skin as he stepped out of a heavy truck, his boots digging into the gravel. Sweat gleamed as it rolled down his wide back, coursing down a giant tattoo of an elaborate cross, the words PAX ET AMOR stamped in black ink across his shoulders. Black wrap around glasses protect his eyes from the day, but do nothing to hide the fresh line of stitches going down the side of his face, courtesy of a hatchet that failed to take his life. B

He kicked me. Right in the crotch, the bandit did. Hard enough that I felt it all the way up my spine as I came fluttering back to consciousness. I looked around at the mossy trees looking down on me from far away and then focused on the fiends closer to me looking down as well with a firm hold on my arms. A red curly haired bastard ripped the pocket watch from me, shaking it before my eyes and then planted a wet kiss on it grinning. "It's a mine now." And then I realized just how much pain my nethers were in. I tried to double over as best as a man being dragged by his arms could, shouting and cursing the whole way. Gods on a stick why'd

A part of me was instinctually screaming as I approached the fort in Rock Falls. Merchants Way, I think is what it was called. Pine wood log walls rose up against the rising sun; small plumes of smoke from a butcher’s kitchen rising up peacefully carrying the smell of meat that was being cooked from there, a nice sultry smell that gave the pine log walls a kind of taste that mixed with the other scents and sounds that came from beyond what I could see. Curiosity crept up on me, suddenly making the prospect of going into a fortress of armed soldiers who hunted goblins for a living not quite that bad. As I inched closer to the gate a squin

 The name’s Grisby, Grisby Havoc Wreaker, I normally tell people Grisbynoppolese to screw with them and make them trip over their words, right after me and my pals have done robbed ‘em of everything and even pulled their pants down. For kicks and giggles I sometimes steal ladies’ underwear, sabotage wagons, and tie a burning rag to a squirrel and let it loose in a barn full of hay. Because it’s fun. Because it’s what I do and what I am. I am a goblin. A studdly goblin at that! Sometimes I just can’t help it, when I’m raiding a lord’s  manor and trying on his clothes, vanity takes hold and lines me st