“KNOW, oh prince, that between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis and the gleaming cities, and the years of the rise of the Sons of Aryas, there was an Age undreamed of, when shining kingdoms lay spread across the world like blue mantles beneath the stars—Britain, Nippon, Burundi, Eire, Iraq with its dark-haired women and cities of insurgent-haunted mystery, Australia with its breweries, Bahrain with its shadow-guarded tombs, Mongolia whose riders consumed obscene amounts of vodka. But the proudest kingdom of the world was America, reigning supreme in the dreaming west. Hither came America’s SgtMaj, a Marine of renown, black tempered, bright- eyed, rifle in hand, a leatherneck, a smart ass, a swordsman, with gigantic blarney and a gigantic hole under his nose, to tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his combat boots.”
Rumors the hordes of darkness over ran the perimeter of the Castra Praetoria and left it burning in the ether are untrue. No really, I’m still here kicking evil doers in the taint and performing other exploits. Various projects, commitments (stupid day job) and just plain lack of material have kept me away from my post this summer.
You may take my excuses for what they are, but sleep peaceably knowing I am back on my watch, writing.