Allow me to tell you a story from my youth. It was my first life in existence. I had lived 17 years and by the laws of my people I was ready for war. At the time, even with my brother serving King Mountainhiem, my house was poor and could not afford to outfit me properly. My first battle was fought wearing my mother’s plate armor and wielding a standard issue greatsword. No one so much as looked my way until I put on my mother’s breastplate. They laughed and we marched. We were to rendezvous with our Westland encampment, but when we arrived it had been overrun by rebels who had grown tired of being worked to the bone for a war they believed they had no stake in. Their guns against our swords, it is unsurprising how fast they took back their home. In the end there were five of us left. My self, Krunk of House Saberfennec, Buck and Roku of House Vlad, and Juliana of House Mountainhiem. We were going to die. I had spent the last ten years of my life working on a new stance. No one believed it would actually work. Even I had my doubts, but when I woke up they told me I had slain three hundred. That not a single bullet could touch me. That I had nearly bled to death from cuts inflicted by my own greatsword as it used my body as a fulcrum from which to build momentum. They called me The Wall. My mother slapped me and told me that I had all but destroyed her armor with my reckless fighting style, then she hugged me and said she was glad it kept me alive. I was just a pup. I did not realize how oppressive my people were to the other races of the Lands or that I would one day die for that same rebellion. We cannot pick our origins, only our futures. I’m pretty sure you know the rest of my story.

-Edward Michael Dimir, Wyyvern Knight of Heaven-