Path of the Fist

”Is that really what you wish for? ” Asked a raven perched on a mans broad shoulder.

The mountain pass was filled to the brim with soldiers. Grotesque chimeras, half-golem half-beast, climbed the fortresss fourth defensive wall, more awaited in ruins of the fifth and sixth next to men wearing bear skins.

”You once told me that every destination has a journey. ” His cold blue eyes scoured the horizon from the mountain, his braided red beard fluttered in the bone-chilling wind along his shoulder-length crimson hair. ”But every journey always starts with a first step. So… for my selfish desire of glory, honor, power. ”

The ghost who has followed him since childhood appeared by his side.

”For those that came before and will come after. ”

On the walls, defenders fought to the last man, trying their best to keep their home safe, fighting against a never-ending tide of enemies.

He could sense their despair.

Their struggle.

Their will to live.

”For those striving. ”

Enslaved jotunns, blue giants as tall as the fortresss walls, marched against their will, chains around their neck and ankles shining red with runes enforcing commands given by humans a tenth of their size.

BOOM!

”For those, Ive lost. ”

Fireballs blanketed the sky red, raining death and pain upon the defenders. A protective magical layer formed around the entire fortress, nullifying half the blazing projectiles until it shattered, condemning those below too weak to survive the blast.

”Even if I must bath Ulreon in blood, I will bring this accursed era to an end. ” He looked to his left into his companions dark eyes, seeing sympathy, cunning, and friendship. ”And restore the shattered Balance. ”

The raven peered