Reflections on a War Long Past: The Broken Sword It has been ten years since the war, and the broken sword still hangs above my mantle. It gleams with its silvery sheen, a constant reminder of what I loved... and lost.
His Name is Kribal: Part Four 'I know who you are,' he whispered softly, keeping his eyes staring firmly forward. 'Your boss really does have people everywhere, you know?'