Ode to the Axe
Axe ode. Axe. Humanity’s oldest friend, clutched in our hands long before we ever invented language. A tool to unleash the violence coiled inside us, one that could satisfy even our rawest survival instincts. Without question, the greatest implement our species has ever made.
I love axes more than I can say. So much that the only thing that settles my nerves is gripping one in each hand. And if I get to split an enemy’s skull open with them, all the better.
“Excuse me, Saintess? I believe we’ve heard enough of your axe manifesto. Could we please return to the Order now?”
What the hell does he mean, calling someone like me a saint?
“Brother, you’re killing the mood. Why don’t you make yourself scarce before I lose my temper?”