“Contrary to what the peasantry may believe, Naharnas is not some blighted landscape filled with barren fields and the crumbling, deserted ruins of towns, forever hidden from the face of the sun. Its soil is fertile. Its cities are proud and elegant. Rain, snow and sun fall with equal measure upon its mountains, grasslands and deserts. And for all this, it is in every way an abomination to Blessed Ambre, Goddess of Life.” -the teachings of Inquisitor Samiel Drau
To the Victor, the Spoils: Prologue
He had always hated opera. Tonight was no exception. Darren Hawke, one of an ever-dwindling number of Homo sapiens left on Earth, gazed around at the tittering crowds and forced himself to keep a pleasantly neutral expression on his face as he offered sweetmeats to the milling guests. House Garuda had spared no expense in… Continue reading To the Victor, the Spoils: Prologue
Proximal Flame's Fiction 