HOME | DD

Description
Facing the firing squad unflinchingly, Jasper Collins thought back on what had brought him to this point. The alcohol he stole from his major's tent, certainly, the debauchery of the local debutantes, perhaps the illegal gambling and smuggling he was running on the side. All he knew was that his fellow Legionaries had not even bothered to translate the vehement accusations his major had spat at him before having him marched for his execution. On such a fine day as well. He had woken in the brig as was usual for him, stretching and looking out the bars at the wind stirring up the dunes, straining to look at the clouds in the distance. He barely had a chance to look before the major had hit him with a cane, getting his attention quickly. That was followed by the half-an-hour of non-stop raving in front of three other Legionaries from the major which impressed Jasper given the major's usual lack of mental coordination and difficulty keeping his map turned the right direction let alone being lost during one of his tirades. Unfortunately this particular train of thought did not derail like most others, and now Jasper had to face the consequences.

He pulled at the ropes binding his hands lightly, testing them as his comrades readied their stance, merely awaiting the major's command. A few had beads of sweat on the brow of one despite standing in the shade, though the rest almost chuckled at finally being able to put an end to a constant source of irritation and black-eyes. A loud roar caught everyone's attention as a sandstorm crashed upon the adobe walls and rushed into the courtyard, carrying with it an even greater danger. Squirming dark shapes thrashed about in the sand, a few of the Legionaries crying out in their native tongue for divine intervention, but if anyone was listening they didn't hear or didn't respond. A long blade drove into one of the formerly sneering faces causing the others to twist in horror and fear, shooting into the sand to no effect. A sudden flame burst from the sandstorm, turning clumps to glass which smashed against the fortress, shattering into a shower of tinkling shrapnel that tore through the courtyard air and Legionaries with equal ease.

The long blade rose out of the sand again, slowly moving toward the sweating Legionnaire but Jasper gave a short whistle and shook his head, his hands now free as he rubbed a ring on his left hand.
"Go on boy, get out of here while you still can." Jasper called out to the man, the sandstorm still raging around the fort but starting to drift away from it. The man nodded and ran for his life, praising whatever deity he worshiped in words Jasper did not understand, but still smiled at what his imagination conjured up. Jasper shook the rope off his arms as the dark shape in the sand remained in the midst of it, long blade held out but steady, awaiting something. The former Legionnaire pulled out a small tin, rolling himself a cigarette and lit it with a match, inhaling and puffing on it as he looked about the aftermath of the mayhem. He just puffed for a while, considering it all, then smirked, rubbing on the ring again. "And for my next wish..."

Description
Facing the firing squad unflinchingly, Jasper Collins thought back on what had brought him to this point. The alcohol he stole from his major's tent, certainly, the debauchery of the local debutantes, perhaps the illegal gambling and smuggling he was running on the side. All he knew was that his fellow Legionaries had not even bothered to translate the vehement accusations his major had spat at him before having him marched for his execution. On such a fine day as well. He had woken in the brig as was usual for him, stretching and looking out the bars at the wind stirring up the dunes, straining to look at the clouds in the distance. He barely had a chance to look before the major had hit him with a cane, getting his attention quickly. That was followed by the half-an-hour of non-stop raving in front of three other Legionaries from the major which impressed Jasper given the major's usual lack of mental coordination and difficulty keeping his map turned the right direction let alone being lost during one of his tirades. Unfortunately this particular train of thought did not derail like most others, and now Jasper had to face the consequences.

He pulled at the ropes binding his hands lightly, testing them as his comrades readied their stance, merely awaiting the major's command. A few had beads of sweat on the brow of one despite standing in the shade, though the rest almost chuckled at finally being able to put an end to a constant source of irritation and black-eyes. A loud roar caught everyone's attention as a sandstorm crashed upon the adobe walls and rushed into the courtyard, carrying with it an even greater danger. Squirming dark shapes thrashed about in the sand, a few of the Legionaries crying out in their native tongue for divine intervention, but if anyone was listening they didn't hear or didn't respond. A long blade drove into one of the formerly sneering faces causing the others to twist in horror and fear, shooting into the sand to no effect. A sudden flame burst from the sandstorm, turning clumps to glass which smashed against the fortress, shattering into a shower of tinkling shrapnel that tore through the courtyard air and Legionaries with equal ease.

The long blade rose out of the sand again, slowly moving toward the sweating Legionnaire but Jasper gave a short whistle and shook his head, his hands now free as he rubbed a ring on his left hand.
"Go on boy, get out of here while you still can." Jasper called out to the man, the sandstorm still raging around the fort but starting to drift away from it. The man nodded and ran for his life, praising whatever deity he worshiped in words Jasper did not understand, but still smiled at what his imagination conjured up. Jasper shook the rope off his arms as the dark shape in the sand remained in the midst of it, long blade held out but steady, awaiting something. The former Legionnaire pulled out a small tin, rolling himself a cigarette and lit it with a match, inhaling and puffing on it as he looked about the aftermath of the mayhem. He just puffed for a while, considering it all, then smirked, rubbing on the ring again. "And for my next wish..."