Thrice you thwarted the beast!
You raise your Father’s sword high above your head and with a strength you should not be able to possess you charge the beast back.
You pierce it’s thick skin, sinking your blade in deep.
It swipes at you with it’s claws, your Mother’s shield protects you, and you bellow your people’s cry.
The beast dies with your face reflected in it’s eyes, shock is clear in it’s deep, endless, hallows.
You fall away as the creature comes crashing down, it shakes the earth beneath your feet.
The monster’s shock is too in your own soul.
You are the Warchild.
Alone you will forever walk, and alone you shall die;
but in death you will be rewarded by the Gods, and in this life you will become legend.

WARCHILD