The night was chill and damp, but this did not bother Ezara. It was dark in the town of [town] and the streets were empty, save for Ezara. Taking one last sip of her bottle of whiskey, she stowed it in her pack which she put under a nearby tree; a little safer from the drizzle.
She returned to face the building, the town barber; the place wherein she had changed forever, coming so close to the evils that could lurk within men. And this man still lived within, and Ezara was enthused to rectify the situation.
She held her short sword in one hand, and a knife in the other, for she expected short quarters combat, if there was any fighting at all. Ezara was quite fine if Maynar didn't put up a fight, so long as he suffered to her satisfaction.
With a snap of her head, she whipped her wet hair over to the side of her head, as she was wont to do to conceal her scar, and stormed the house, eager to rid the world of another monster.
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Unkarra Gate (1st draft)
FantasíaEzara ran for her life, escaping the destruction of her home. As well, the responsibility to protect a group of the village children was thrust upon her, and her only hope was an old recluse she had always been told to avoid. The last thing this re...
