Are
He came and he came with everything he had. Armed and armored he had arrived back at the place that had given him so much grief. Third time's the charm, as they say. At least he came by his own volition, and for no one but himself. Not by the whim of the gods, for respect of his peers, or even because of dire necessity. No, Are was in it just for himself for a change.
Emerging a victor crowned by the falling oak leaves or a hero carried by Valkyrjor to his rightful place by the sides of gods, of old or new, from a world long gone or his new home he would only find out one way. No matter the outcome he was content in knowing it was all by his own hand, at last his fate was all his.
Standing before the door to the unknown he made sure every strapped was taught and every piece sat just as they should. The days of the cobbler was gone, in his stead stood a warrior on the brink of a new life, or on the brink to a great abyss.
Emerging a victor crowned by the falling oak leaves or a hero carried by Valkyrjor to his rightful place by the sides of gods, of old or new, from a world long gone or his new home he would only find out one way. No matter the outcome he was content in knowing it was all by his own hand, at last his fate was all his.
Standing before the door to the unknown he made sure every strapped was taught and every piece sat just as they should. The days of the cobbler was gone, in his stead stood a warrior on the brink of a new life, or on the brink to a great abyss.
