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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Aug 9, 2017
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Fiction
Fantasy
The sound of a blade leaving its sheathe, of steel on steel. A weapon clattering to the ground and men's screams are some you never forget. The putrid smell after a man dies or that of festering wounds is another thing you seldom forget. Men die that is true, men die in various ways. Yet not all share that Fate,oh i die. That I do indeed, and have many different times and various ways. However after I die, I wake up standing in the same situation as I was before seconds, even minutes ago. I have to change the outcome or experience death all over again. I have to learn quickly from my mistakes and what is around me on the field of battle, because of this men fear me.
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