Hakkason's profile

It was a long way down. Unblinking eyes stared down to the murky mass of foliage which shivered in the dead grey light. The bottle could have been an extension of his limp arm where it hung carelessly over the precipice. Nearly spent, it felt light to his fingers which clung to the bulbous lip of glass. Eyes made silver by the weak moonlight shifted to his left hand, taking in the travesty. Weighted oddly, The ring felt heavy on his index, the sapphire glaring accusingly at him as if outraged...

Ginger Will’s heavy breathing gave a rhythm to the group's tempo as they walked their horses towards the moonlit second gate. It too lay ajar, it’s large iron-studded doors inviting them inside. The ground between the outer wall and the second wall was a rock covered sandy expanse. The stones, varying in size from small smooth pebbles to rough boulders, had all been arranged in swirling patterns. The patterns interlocked perfectly with the ornate cobble paths that led to sheltered...

Itia Sergis wept as she sat alone in the threadbare drawing room. It had once been a prosperous family home of which she had ruled like a queen bee. Itia had not come from much and indeed the first time she had met Danjen it had been at sword-point and she had been forced to undress for his pleasure. ‘Woe to the vanquished’ he had said as he took her in the ruins of her childhood. Itia remembered the fierce joy in his eyes at the pain he must have seen in hers. The memory always m...

“Danjen” the name rolled off Major Leculo’s tongue making one of his men look up in surprise at the sudden noise. He dismissed the mans curiosity with a lazy wave. Captain Danjen, to be more specific, Leculo had even fought under him at one point during the second Obligus war. Having never met the man he couldn’t begin to judge his size or speed but everyone in the imperial army had heard of Danjen the Brave. A demon swordsman and the type of man you would follow into ...

The square was at peace in the dusky light as Danjen stared out from behind the shutters. The broken fountain provided the only noise as it gurgled like a man gasping for breath. He remembered the days when it had been a pristine white marble construction, a larger than life version of the old Emperor. His hands, raised in triumph, had shot water so high into the air that the children had wondered whether it was ever going to come back down. It always did, what goes up must come down. That ma...