Brigade Commander Sprott surveys the landscape from a high (very high) emplacement. The attrition has become evident. Long specs lie motionless by the thousands, their grotesque twisted corpses sprawled out in blood-soaked grass, riddled with shrapnel, gashed in scores, bored with bullet holes. They had been frightened out of their position by repeated raids at fifteen minute intervals carried out with the clock-like precision for which the Cartel was known. The sweet spoils of victory were not theirs to share. Sprott murmured between his teeth to Private Embry, whose eye had fixed upon a fallen man of broad muscled back, his white well-fed body made marble statue by Death.
Technical analysis on gold
GM Jenkins made me laugh today with this eruption of purple prose. Here’s an excerpt, do make sure you click through and read it all: