I burst through the smoke, my mind in a blind rage. I saw the banners of our allies being carried by the raiders setting fire to our homes. Could it be? Would they betray us? It did not matter to me. All I wanted was blood on my beloved Greataxe. The first one I saw was not prepared for my onslaught. He had clearly been in the heat of battle for some time now, thus I had the advantage I needed. As I swung my axe overhead, I could hear my mother screaming my name, her last breath used to tell me she loved me, and to watch over my Brother. “Nes’hoc!” she screamed. By the time I had gathered myself, my axe was embedded into the chest of a 3rd rival, and 2 heads rolled around at my feet. Was I losing my mind? Did I care? I did not have much time to answer my own questions, as I was soon struck in the back of the head with a club. It hurt, but this was clearly an inferior being. I turned to meet eyes with a human. I killed him before he had the chance to finish screaming what I can only imagine was his fathers name. I was enraged, but now in control. An arrow struck at my feet, and I quickly took cover. I looked for the archers, maybe they would give me a hint as to where the army came from. Surely, I could meet back up with my brother and make plans to ambush them together. It was then that I heard the sound. A catapult. No, multiple catapults. Fire soon lit up the sky once more. I needed to take action. I charged the archers. They fired their crossbows, allowing their arrows to light up the sky, their tips burning with the fury of each man, their preparation had led them to this moment. They knew I was coming. They had aimed for me. Surely, as their arrows clouded the sky, I would fall to their legion. Or so they thought. I was struck with several, but the attack was futile. I was burned, cut, and in pain. But it did not matter. My rage was unstoppable. I could see the horror in their eyes, as they knew they would be dead before they reloaded.

The next few days were a blur. I remember flashes. I was locked in combat for what must have been close to 70 hours. My body ached, but my blood rushed like a wildfire, my fury spread like a plague. I left a path of bodies. Most warriors, some women, some children. My rage had led me to nightmarish acts of barbarism, things I never thought myself capable of. I was now standing where a village had once been. A traveler spotted me, and quickly ran back where he came. I began to return home. I had no idea where I was. My attempts to speak to locals were met with disgust. Some cried when I appeared. Others would attempt to run and hide. Most stood silent as I walked past. I heard whispers of one they called the Grave Watcher. Did they think I was him? “Maybe they are mistaking me for someone else….” I thought to myself. Perhaps at some point, I would meet a traveler not afraid to speak with me.

12 hours removed from the nearest village, I was beginning to struggle. I had no food, no water. Soon, I would not be as large as my brother liked to joke about. I suddenly realized that I had not seen him, and gained new motivation to go on. I was then greeted by a traveler. A Goliath, like me. I thought that maybe, I could finally ask for some directions, some food, water, something to help me find my home. I would soon find out that I had thought wrong.

The traveller was standing on a rock, at the top of a hill. Surrounded by ruins, I could see a thriving village behind him. He was massive, larger than even my brother. His frame looked as if it had been carved into him. He brandished a Greatsword and approached me. 

“So the legends are true I see.” I was confused by his willingness to talk, but had no interest in carrying on a conversation. 

“Breathing, walking, living legends” said the traveller.

 Before I could ask a question, the sword was on its way to my chest. I moved out of the way and brandished my Greataxe. My foe lifted a horn, and blew into it hard, surely a signal for others. I needed to end this quickly. I swung my axe for his head, but to my surprise, he ducked it. He was far faster than me. My mistake was met with a slice to the gut. A grazing blow, but painful all the same. My attempt at a counter strike ended in disaster, as my axe was suddenly made significantly lighter. The handle had been chopped in half by the sword. Both me and my enemy were surprised, so I took the opportunity to shoulder check him. I barely moved him, and was soon knocked on my ass. As the final blow was being prepared, I grabbed the horn and shattered it on his thigh. The damage was low, but the pain was immense, as he fell to a knee and missed his strike. It was all I had, and all I needed. I grabbed the rock he was standing on when I arrived, lifted it above my head, and slammed it down on his. To my shock, he had just managed to thrust his sword upward, shattering it and the rock, and survived the assault. Tired now, with reinforcements on the way, I contemplated my next move. A costly mistake, as I soon found myself on the ground, a fist being pulled from my face, preparing for a second blow. In what I believed for a split second were my final moments, I reached to find anything to help me win this battle. I was met with a small crossbow, apparently taken from the archers who had attacked my village, strapped around my leg. As a last ditch effort, I drew it and fired, hoping it was loaded. The arrow seemed to move in slow motion, as it hit my attacker in the eye. He recoiled back, and was met with a quick jab to the nose, shattering it. I stood up, knowing this fight was mine. I reached up, grabbed the head of the poor assailant, and twisted my hands with everything I had left. His lifeless body would fall to the ground, but my celebration was quickly cut short.

Up the hill came a large army. Screaming, roaring, shouting about the Grave Watcher. I soon realized what the traveller meant when he spoke of the legends. I, somehow, was the Grave Watcher. I retreated into the nearby forest. I asked for a god, any god, to help me hide. Surely, my massive frame would not allow me to hide, even amongst the large trees and thick brush. Yet somehow, the entire army marched pass. I went back to retrieve the remains of my axe, but they were nowhere to be found. The bastards had taken it for themselves. I then made a loud roar, attracting the attention of the rear guard of the army. They were all in the forest now, and I was standing on the rock, holding their dead friend in my hands. I lifted him above my head, and brought his back down on my knee. He was already dead, but my intentions were clear. They would all meet his fate if they engaged me. I heard a call from the trees. “You will die for that” said a deep voice. “I will track down your blood and turn them to slaves! Your mother will live out her life as a whore.” My mind raced. Blood boiled. I was death incarnate...