Barry Senter liked the truth.
This one time, long go. A specimen crossed paths with a beast.
“Lo, men were created to become more.. why hast stagnation, lores told and holy jesters cackle. Golden tongues broken in blood.” The beast was fierce, gazing upon it's likeness was a no no bruh, twenty two feathered eyes emblazoned clocktowers of mist.

Barry was unlike most. But more.

His demeanor took a left turn. Laid down his hefty blade.

“Warship The Saint.” He spat dry brown blood onto a deceased fool.
“Gifted to me… nay. Taken by combat from my mentor. A very...