HOME | DD

Description
A warrior in wolf's fur waded through the swamp, spear raised and ready. His nostrils flared as he gauged the air.
“It's not far now,” he growled. “I can smell its foul stench on the wind.”
There was a knight following him, wearing armour black as ink. She nodded once and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her sword. She was looking forward to a glorious battle.

*

On the far side of the marshes, a nameless hunter looked for signs of her quarry. It was a cunning beast, guileful and fiendishly hard to track. She looked to her fellow hunter, frustrated. Perhaps he was faring better.
Damon the Wakeful focused his senses, detecting a disturbance in the water.
“Onward, my friend,” he said.
The sun was fierce. He'd never known summer to feel so deathly.

*

Once flawless armour, now dented and broken; its mirror sheen reflected a distorted mockery of the world around, an outward display of the madness inside. The knight slumped in the murky water, his head hung low, his weapon forgotten.
A tangle of reptilian heads drew closer, baring their fangs, ready to strike.
The distorted knight cursed his own foolishness.

The heads of the hydra would fight over his bones.

Description
A warrior in wolf's fur waded through the swamp, spear raised and ready. His nostrils flared as he gauged the air.
“It's not far now,” he growled. “I can smell its foul stench on the wind.”
There was a knight following him, wearing armour black as ink. She nodded once and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her sword. She was looking forward to a glorious battle.

*

On the far side of the marshes, a nameless hunter looked for signs of her quarry. It was a cunning beast, guileful and fiendishly hard to track. She looked to her fellow hunter, frustrated. Perhaps he was faring better.
Damon the Wakeful focused his senses, detecting a disturbance in the water.
“Onward, my friend,” he said.
The sun was fierce. He'd never known summer to feel so deathly.

*

Once flawless armour, now dented and broken; its mirror sheen reflected a distorted mockery of the world around, an outward display of the madness inside. The knight slumped in the murky water, his head hung low, his weapon forgotten.
A tangle of reptilian heads drew closer, baring their fangs, ready to strike.
The distorted knight cursed his own foolishness.

The heads of the hydra would fight over his bones.