”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.”


Here is the fall.

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

Here is the result.