Requiem for the West

The Most Dangerous Game

Emma Graves

These Southern Lords seem possessed of the same pompous hubris that the Old Man was. Oh, how I can’t wait to give them what’s coming to them. I was happy to lay down one of their ranks, and work on a second. Sadly, my mind got cloudy as my anger rose and I didn’t take the care I needed to ensure I’d last the fight. A useless lot these suckers beside me seem. One freezes and runs for the door, the other disappears. I’d rather work alone, to be honest. I’m used to it, and I know not to rely on anyone’s help. Had they not been there, I’d have taken flight and run. The important part is that we’ve already put three of them to bed and didn’t even have to travel to do it. The jackass that gave me the bounty seemed to take notice of how quick we got it done, but it took a little convincing. I’m so damned tired of it, these city suckers and their attempts to look refined. Like they’re not monsters that just know how to preen and smile. I can’t wait to be rid of this city, it reeks of piss and iniquity. I’m still sore from the beating I took earlier, but it’s not like I’m not used to being kicked around. It’ll heal up, given a bit of time and a mess of blood.

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