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”Stop where you are!” is the command.

The messenger Dishonored turns his spear towards the Crimson-clad men surrounding him and draws a circle with the point. Dust rises from the sweep. Line has been drawn. It is a perfect circle.

 

A coil of chains attaches itself to the haft and the spear is yanked away. A red-stained man leaps framed by the blinding  sun and brings his hands down swiftly as a felling blow. And the Dishonored falls while the dust is still rising.

Spittle dripping lips meet the gaze of the berserker’s rage.

“You will bleed your truths, easterling.”

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Here is the fall.

I start the sleething process with "Reason to Start Again".

Here is the result.