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Bjorn Felhammen · **09-06-2015, 07:51 PM**

War Games, keyword War. My lineage, my calling, my birth right. Weeks of preparation for only moments of evisceration. An advantagous situation, in a cage adorned with hooks and thorns, the cradle that nurtures brutality.

As I stand here wielding my axe, mowing tree and person alike, I feel the sinister urge rising, growing from it's bloody roots to stain the sky crimson with violence, agony, and malice.

There is no limit to that which feeds on absolute decimation which I have had the honor of befriending. At this moment I swing my steel, and lay the foundation of my great hall, which awaits to be christened with the blood and screams of my opponents, a great hall whence myself and my comrades will drink heavily from the skulls of our fallen foes. War Games, Victory Forever II shall usher in XWF's darkest hour, an hour of pain, an hour merciless merriment, an hour of absolute obliteration.

BEHOLD, THE GODS HAVE DECREED THEIR RETURN.
BEHOLD, ODIN HAS PREPARED ME WITH HIS ARMORY FOR BATTLE.
BEHOLD, RAGNAROK HAS ARRIVED.

GODS BE PRAISED OR DAMNED BE YOU.

So hath spoken, the seed of Loki.

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