Against the Tide: The Last Battle of Fenrin The Fell (STORY ALERT, SEE DESCRIPTION FOR STORY)

Hundreds had fallen before him already, but the hoards surrounded him now on all sides. Every one of his comrads lay dead and broken. But now he had the advantage... ...he need not be wary anymore of where his blades fell... His death surrounded him. But they would remember his name before he fell. It would be whispered by the kindred of their fallen legions in hushed whispers in the shadows of the night. His memory would haunt them till it bled into legends of blood and terror. Wounded more than any man could bear, he lunged into the line of his foes, his blades flying like bats, wild, quick, and unpredictable, singing like the call of banshees in the ears of the soon to be dead or dying. And above it all he cried his name, so they would remember by whom their eternal terror was hewn into shape in their minds and corpses. "FENRIN! FENRIN! FENRIN! FENRIN!"