Captain Artorius Flamhanger was a brave man, who stood against the rampaging forces of the damned even as his defences crumbled around him. He never wavered, never faltered, and he never left a man behind.
In a better world, there would be songs about him. But Fellhollow scorns legacy, leaving only ruin and despair where hope might take root.
He held the line against the encroaching horde far longer than anywhere else in the region. Days turned into months and months grew into years. As the rest of the region vanished into death, despair and rot, Captain Flamhanger stood strong. As his children died and rose again, the captain returned them to the earth with sombre compassion. When his wife joined them in death, he gave her a final kiss of polished silver that cleaved her head from her shoulders.
In a better world he might have held back the darkness, stood as the single ray of light in a world of shadow. But this is not our world.
There are no sagas of this man. No great texts telling of his heroic deeds. The only sound he made in the time after his death, is the bubbling song of digestive acids within a zogre’s belly.
History is penned by the survivors and the victors, yet the deeds of the dead echo across time. This axe, simple as it may appear, is infused with vengeance against the dead that had taken so much from a good man.