Mount And Blade Finding The Hairs Mask

I have an eternity without writing, but I fancy myself to tell my sorrows and joys, just put a piece of my more interesting.

Mask

Hair By Neil Carolina Moon

The evening fell tinting all crimson red lights, who died on the horizon, while the shadows were long as claws on the rider, as if to draw you into the depths of the forest to not ever let him get away. All permanganateNando their hands, Blood ... To pour it was what they had been trained, formed from the earliest ages to eliminate the enemies of his master, become the shadow that kept more than a trail of corpses, fear etched in her eyes.

Some took it more to demon than human, cold as ice, unable to let the heat, not even a woman, gets into the depths of his soul. Quench your lust with the same anger in the bed of a slave than of a queen, leaving behind the shadow of that tortured prohibited touching their hearts forever ..

Only a few knew the noble face was hidden under the mask of a wolf, not even their fans knew they were hiding behind that bestial masquerade built ceramics and painting in which he had always hidden. So much built the farce that everyone said that under the terrible face of ceramics and painting a face was distorted by fire, acid or disease ... For many mouths the rumor that was deformed own legend.

But all that had corrupted creature was his soul, corrupted by the cruelty of his master and yokeof slavery. Torn from the arms of his mother, had no opportunity to know their heat, only the whip of his master who fed on his blood, his anger. And so it grew, forged by the shock and anger, molded with the steel of a sword, become the perfect attack dog, the clutches of his master. Hunter was the faceless, without thought, without a will ...

And it was facing the great dam, that being that above all temíay by his master after his death, the long-awaited win freedom, his last hunting. And the prize was his great desire, to get rid of the string that imped & iacumore terrible form.

And under this, in a clearing at the end of the road found it.

But it was not the thousand-headed hydra that found among the oaks and dandelions. It was the most beautiful of the poppies, which shed their delicate petals crimson under the steel of his knife.

dismounted from a jump, letting loose the animal to roam freely, it would not run away from that delicate creature, who turned blind eyes and a strange blue (almost white)to the clink of his spurs against Grass. She was a petite girl covering forms a black cloak that contrasted against his snow-white hair, more typical of an old woman of someone like her, do not appear to meet the seventeen springs ...

What kind of terrible secret to hide that fragile little bird that his master wanted it dead? Never would find out, before his life would reap steel mowing with his dagger life line is drawn around his neck crisp, delicate as a swan.

and their prey ratheramp; eacute; s the beautiful features of a face that he had always been forbidden to show ..

For a moment was tempted to turn away and flee, or to break and destroy all the beauty that was in the creature, forcing it to then end his own hands with their latest breath of life. But he restrained himself, for some strange reason refrained from destroying the only purity that had been able to penetrate the darkness that cubríay see what others are ignored. She had found the frightened child hiding under the mask of the murderer.

was she who took the step, which often stood on tiptoe to devour her lips, making the interior burn their tongues while playing like a river of lava from a volcano. The close against him wanting to feel closer, closer and closer ...

And suddenly broke inside, like a sheet of frost dam to the slight weight of the deer on their way gets broken. The cold flooded for the last time his lungs and his heart stopped beating under that poisoned kiss.

had succumbed Bido first an enemy, had been fooled by a sweet face and lips taste most delicious of all, the game against the most deadly poisons.

She

deposit his lifeless body on the ground, gently parting the curly locks of the noble savage face of the great performer. The man with the soul of wolf had claimed the lives of mortal warriors, always coming out unscathed from all combat, until now, because nobody could get away with a fight against it. Clergy and slaves, lords and commoners ... everyone, absolutely everyone fell under his deadly touch.

CH