Unnamed Journal Volume 3, Issue 2 - Page 22

Time slides... Drea put a hand to her. "You hear it, don't you?" Falla nodded. "It's what they wanted. It's part of you. They could find you by it. Tusk men are sensitive to certain... traits in people. As am I." Time ... The tallest of the Tusk Men came first under the barbarian's blades. He held out his staff of bone and tooth as if to parry but the barbarian just swatted it aside with one fearsome blow and with another cut through the furry collar around his throat and sent arterial spray in a wide arc. The Tusk man issued a horrible pained gurgle and staggered to his side clutching his hands to his throat and collapsing in front of Falla's eyes. She looked at the black pits where his eyes were and it seemed to her that they were no less terrifying even as she knew that nothing was behind them anymore. Somehow that made them more alien and strange. The other two Tusk men thought to converge on the barbarian but he moved faster. He knocked the flint spearhead off the one who had thought to circle him and put one of his swords in the Tusk man's chest and left it there to deal with the other one. The Tusk man howled a song of animal despair like a wounded goat and tried to pull the sword from his chest but his strength had left him and he shuffled limply towards the shore before he too fell, dropping forward on his chest and driving the sword even deeper into his chest. She could see the red point sticking through his back. That left one. The barbarian, smiling, whirred his remaining sword in decorative arcs that may have once been practice exercises but now were clearly done to intimidate. He held the weapon back with the point towards his last enemy and with his other, forward hand, beckoned him to fight. Instead, the last Tusk man, the smallest, dropped his stone club and ran away, parallel to the shore.