DROPS OF BLOOD
Wins and Losses
"You've lost, you bloodsucking bastard."
The huge sword was at his throat, he was down against a wall, and all he could do was smile within.
How many times had he heard that, in one form or another? In how many tongues and from how many people of all ages, races, and creeds?
The Lord Impaler roared back to his feet, a swirling storm of darkness crackling with red power. The sword was drawn back in surprise.
Didn't they understand?
His very existence was a victory.