Like a hundred year old oak tree, this bear of a man stood in front of a vast army, the hopes a world bearing down on him as if he were Atlas himself. His breath, unusually calm given the scenario, caused plumes of smoke to rise into the chilly morning air. Slowly he raised a large battle axe, easily the size of another man high above his head. The army roared behind him.

Unseen, another wisp of smoke rose skyward and a loud crack went unheard. When the marksman’s musket shot felled the giant, silence also fell over the raucous warriors. With their enemies wielding thundersticks and with the demise of their champion, all hope was lost.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


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