When the world was young, things were simpler.
It was us or them. We fought to survive, and in death we found glory.
Now we fight our own Shield-Sisters and Brothers, for banners that change with the wind.
When I killed Hjarek on the battlefield, I vowed not to take up arms again. I found honor in this choice, but shame in its consequence.
The bards do not sing tales of those who die in their homes, slain by time. If I am to see him again, I must stand eye to eye with Tsun on the Whalebone Bridge, and earn my place in the Hall of Valor.
I miss you, brother. Wait for me in Sovngarde.