The unnamed man’s nose flared in insult as he thought to himself while the pig named Corbin prattled on. He disgusts me with his gluttonous sweat and fearful stink. He is like a swine, plumped up for the slaughter, but none I would like to eat. He sits across the table from me wheedling, desiring, wanting more and more and more. He wants assurances of safety, he wants money, he want, he wants, he wants... I am close, but not quite ready, to lean across and slit his jowls with a second smile, stand up and leave. But that is not my job...not yet.
Clifton Hill, Veil of a Warrior
assassin, epic-fantasy, fantasy