Warmth of a denHe was breathing raggedly, all adrenaline spent as the last man in front of him slipped bonelessly to the floor. When the face of the unconscious hunter landed in the soaked sawdust, the squishing noise finished bringing him back to his senses and he took a deep shuddering inspiration which he regretted instantly, the air around being saturated with various stenches, spilled wine and vomit.Warmth of a den2 years ago in Short Stories
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The small move in front of him made him reach instantly for another of his daggers but the old man behind the counter merely smiled, putting on between them a cutlass, its blade stained and pitted with age but still impressive.
"I wouldn't if I was you, lad. I can still kick your ass if need be, so don't give me reasons."
From various corners, a few silhouettes were rising back on their feet and exiting as quietly as possible, intent on avoiding the fury of the young blond man they had just seen bring down a whole group of armed men. The room had been sparsely filled when he had entered and wa