Unnamed Journal Volume 3, Issue 2 - Page 19

Gunda-Gar, the Great Fish, who lived under the sea, who demanded sacrifice of the unbroken, and when they were not fishing or hunting prowled the shore to seek offerings. But if you stayed away from the shore in the dawn and in the twilight, Falla's father told her, you were safe. Father was wrong. She felt the time slide and... The Barbarian stood just beyond the surf in front of a rotting pine log. He wore a hauberk of beaten bronze and thick boots and a helmet with a nose guard. He had a short sword on each hip, and one sword had a red jewel on the pommel and the other had a copper pommel carved in the shape of a dragon head. He stood with his hands at his hips and a queer smile on his broad face. The Tusk men stood and stared at him as the full sun burned behind their boats on the horizon. They stared at the barbarian as though he was of some kind of being they had never seen and whose existence filled them with a fearsome awe. Or perhaps that was just her. She fell or was pushed to the ground, her arms still bound with FRg&VB6&BFB6VVB&6BvV6RVBW6R6rFR&&&&f"7V6RW7@&RWBV6v6RW"F&V7FRFBBV"66W&VB&WBW"fFRVB76VBvW&RFRGW6V6ǒ7FB6V7FfVǒ66FW&rrF&W7BF0&W6V6RfV&BW'6Vb'&VFrFRFR6ƖFRB7Fr6VBFRvwv6RVBWB6rFR&&&&6֖rFvRVB@W"Bw&VB$VFW'7FBRwfRWBGvr"6BFRv$גR2G&VBR&R6fRW&R 6RVBWBFRVrƖvBbFR'FR%vW&R&RRFrS