About the Series

Tales of the Assassin Without a Name is a series of fantasy adventure stories featuring an assassin with a skill for murder and a penchant for fine wine. While each story is self-contained, there is a larger storyline at play as strange forces are on the move. Through happenstance and his own compulsion to look after his own interests, the Assassin Without a Name becomes embroiled with these forces, and not in a good way. Hunted by Black Guardsmen, plagued by death priests, and inexorably involved with a society whose mission is to further the advance of technology, our reluctant hero may take the high road at times, but always in his mind lurks the memory of one glorious night of murder when he gave up his true identity and never looked back. Now, with his city under threat, the Assassin Without a Name will do whatever it takes to preserve his way of life and protect the family who thinks him dead. He gave up his life once so that others could live. If he has to, he’ll do it again.

Light from torches held by Jakaree priests standing all around the machine made its metal shine. Or maybe it gave off a glow of its own as it spun and whirled around the exact thing I was hoping wouldn’t be there: a ball of energy so dark it was a sphere of utter blackness amidst the machine’s otherwise metallic sheen.

This was supposed to have gone down quick. Kill the mark, then take my leave with no one the wiser.

“We wish you to dispatch a man…who is already dead.”

Call it a sixth sense. Call it magic. Call it whatever the hell you want. I’ve just always had an intuition when my life was in danger, like I knew it was right now.

“You are no doubt aware of the technological revolution presently sweeping across Uhl. Airships sail our skies, alchemical lights brighten the night’s darkness, and steam and alchemically powered carriages navigate our streets with greater and greater frequency."

As if on cue, dark-robed Jakaree streamed into the chamber in numbers which seemed to grow exponentially. Liz and I put our backs to one another. Not that it was going to do us any good against the sea of tattooed faces quickly facing us from every direction.

“Gentlemen,” Kaileesh said, his words laced with silk, “your payment awaits you. You need only take it from this man’s corpse.”

It wasn’t every night one beat back the dead and stared into the abysmal eyes of an otherworldly being.