Bladesworn
I hear sounds of distant thunder
Recollections in my head
I see fire, I smell sulfur
Shades of orange, shades of red
I feel nothing but the metal
I can taste the acrid smoke
I make haste to brace for impact
I prepare my killing stroke
I put pressure on the trigger
Distractions lost amidst the tide
I feel all the world aligning
Nowhere left to run or hide
I hear nothing but the thunder
I feel flame and force cascade
I see men reduced to corpses
As I sheathe the searing blade














