Board Thread:Fun and Games Forum/@comment-24510587-20151030164455/@comment-25932172-20151222001513

Together they would stand, or divided they would fall. Enxor already attempted to do so once, by trapping Argus within a realm of their own nightmares. And now again, by unleashing the unerring hordes of the Hive. Time was fleeting and victory was nothing more than a possibility, rather than being assured. The throne world of the Bone Wraith was a hellish cosmos, a sea of uncertainty riddled with glowing green eyes, ravenous creatures with no desire but to have their hunger sated through murder. And among the death, there was a Light. Varrus, the mighty giant, had erected his bastion of hope. The Ward of Dawn glimmered in twilight, offering a sanctuary in the hopeless otherworld.

Arxus cut his way through hordes of Thralls and Acolytes, avoiding them all to make way to the Ward. Around him were still the Bone Zealots, champions of Enxor. Their cleavers were wreathed in a dark ritual, and Arxus realized what exactly it was. Holding the cleaver in his hand, he came to a sudden epiphany that it was not darkness at all, but rather corrupted light. Some sort of sacrificial ritual preformed by Hive Wizards allowed the Light of powerful, slain Guardians to be infused within the cleavers, but the Light was twisted for a new purpose. Perhaps it could be untwisted.

Upon finally reaching the Ward, Arxus anchored himself into that position and allowed himself to catch a breath. The concentrated light from the Ward of Dawn caused the cleaver to smoke and fizzle. "Never figured... I'd be able to even have a second of rest."