The Assassin

It was a blistering summer day. Rylow’s lean, massive frame racked with uncontrollable shivers. He pulled his hood even further over his head and wrapped his cloak even tighter. Rylow would lose the majestic, intimidating effect of a billowing cloak, but on that bright summer day, he didn’t care. It was utterly, bone-chillingly, marrow-freezingly icy. … More The Assassin