Elegant Writing on Inscriptionist Parchment

[Bahura]

In my life, I once felt as if an infinite number of paths lay before me.  Paths that could take me anywhere I wished.
To become anything I desired. 

One by one, the paths dwindled in number.

The whisper of spirits led me to the ways of the shaman. Paths disappeared.  Those who stood with me, stood in front
to shelter me from harm, they fell. More paths gone. The first feel of an axe in my hand. Paths passed over, never to be
discovered again.

Hating and crying while I killed my first foe.  Sick with revulsion. So many paths closed to me from that point on.

I have been left with few paths.  I think this is the way of things, as we feel and as we experience all our world has for us.
I think we are shown a path, a true path as others are lost.  I believe we are shown our one true path.

There are many fine things.  The smell of wet grass and good earth.  A worthy cause.  A fine meal.  The curve of a male's
shoulders and flank.  I believe there is a path that must be trod, to make sure our ways, our lives, are kept safe.

I believe we who live now are the ones who will do what must be done.  We will do that which will keep these
fine things for those we bring into this world.

I think there will be killing, and loss, and great sadness.  It is the way of things.

I am ready.

If The Grim will have me, I will help to bring peace to our lands.
With each blow of my axes.

Bahura