Bazaar of Death: Nine
In the deepest reaches of the night, Sabit dreamt. • • A battlefield—littered with bodies, flowing with blood. The acrid tang of smoke. A vicious war-cry. Numberless ranks of foes. The taste of copper at Sabit’s lip. A brutal charge. Everywhere, the dance of battle. Sabit’s spear—long and sharp and cruel. The iron tip piercing … Read more