Once is Never Enough
Aisling held what remained of Blightheart by his horn, throwing the goblin magelord’s head at the boots of her liege lord, Árdghal, who had commanded his fighters to cleanse his lands of the vile bastard’s black magic. “You have done well, Aisling.” He leaned forward in his throne, examining the grotesque grimace gazing upward from the straw and cobbles. Aisling did not kneel. She did not bow her head. Tough as leather, she crossed her sinewy arms and smirked. She met her liege lord’s eyes as if she were his equal, as if she were his better. “The deed is…