Grim Fury

Jim Stitzel

I dabble a little in a lot of things — writing, webcomics, gaming, photography, web design, music, and more. I write code full-time and words in the gaps in between.


Malika pushed forward into the village, her blade a blur of blue, flaming fury. It took several moments for the Lesser Dead to notice her, but as she cut them down, they flocked to her in greater numbers.

They never had a chance.

Each and every deathless that got within arm's reach was cut down with exquisite precision. Where before she had toyed with her prey, now she was nothing but an efficient and effective tool of determination and destruction. Deathless after deathless she returned to the shadows of Ashmar, as she herself was driven forward by a determination and fury she almost couldn't explain.

Somewhere ahead of her a larger darkness loomed, and she was drawn to it, even as a voice in her mind threw a warning to her consciousness. She banished that voice, however, and drove on, ever forward and toward that darkness.

She barely noticed the holy man continuing to follow in her wake, cleaning up the dregs of her destruction. Orange flame matched her blue as the deathless fell one at a time.


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