I will call my wolves and I will hunt you over the frozen wastelands of the north. I will scent your blood on the sands of the south and taste your fear on the eastern winds. I will howl my victory in the woods of the west.
Let us clash our wills together, let us bath in each others blood as we struggle for supremacy. Run me through, taste of my blood and my strength for when your bones lie in the sands of time I will remain. Enjoy your moment for it is fleeting.
My sword will pierce you asunder, cleave flesh from bone; tissue and sinew will melt from the intensity of my fury. My horses know no tiredness and my wolves teeth are sharp and they bay for your blood.
Time holds no meaning for me and my fury has no end. Where are your horse and rider and the brightness of your shield? They have melted, they have sunken into the earth with despair before the power of my armies.
-Fricka Kasbaarg
