Man of War – Excerpt No. 357

The life of a soldier was straightforward. The enemy was clearly identifiable, and gunfire was a definite sign of aggression. Along the same lines, allies were easily recognised by their uniforms.

“Vampires may have a society, but it’s anything but civil.”

Immortals tended to get bored and had excess time to plan out elaborate plans for revenge. As a human, if Marc had a problem with someone, they would exchange words. If all else failed, there were duels that resolved any disagreement… permanently

A dramatic, low-key lit, cinematic photograph of a mortally wounded gentleman, clad in ornate, lace-trimmed, black and gold attire, typical of 16th Century French nobility, lying on the grassy, dew-kissed grounds of a misty, early morning duel site, his eyes wide with shock, his face pale and clammy, a crimson stain spreading rapidly across his white shirt, his rapier lying nearby, its hilt glinting faintly in the soft, morning light. In the background, twenty paces away, his opponent, a tall, dark-haired, stern-faced figure, stands frozen, his right hand still grasping the smoking pistol, its barrel wispy with fog, his left hand clenched into a fist, his attire a somber, dark-colored contrast to the fallen gentleman's, amidst a backdrop of majestic, centuries-old trees, their branches shrouded in mist, the atmosphere heavy with tension and foreboding.

Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.



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