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Reaver Hawk, mercenary captain, is left with a handful of fellow heroes to hold a pass against an invading army. Knowing death is certain, they prepare to make their names shine.
The first ever Reaper Hawk story. Actually, it's more of a scene, or, really, an expanded character sketch.
What it is, really, is three thousand words of heroism, dark humour, and death.
It's the infection that spawned a series!
It's the germinating seed from which every other story about Reaper Hawk, the greatest warrior ever to walk the streets and sands of Lysandria, grew!
It's the kernel from which all other fantasy, all other fiction, grew!
Yeah, alright, I'm reaching a bit with that one. This isn't Yggdrasil.
Look, Reaper is a fascinating fellow. Whatever else people called him – anti-hero, sacker of empires, slayer of demons, dark soul, destroyer, slayer, murdering scum, barbarian – no one denies that he's a great swordsman, and an outstanding warrior. That's all you get to see in this story, but I knew that there were depths to his character that three thousand words about his death just couldn't uncover. And I wanted to uncover them. So, from Last Stand came Battle Pits of D'nur (aka Gladiator), and half a dozen other books, which means that, even stripped of all hyperbole, this remains the seed from which they all sprouted. For that reason alone, if for no other, it's interesting, to me at least, and hopefully to you, too.