The warrior bends his knee on the green grass below his naked feet. Where his knee touches the grass begins to wither away into dust, only to bring forth new life in the forum of putrid molds and parasitic growths, life in it's most carnal form. After a moment of silence, the warrior looks skyward toward the figure to who he has bended his knee. He is nature, he is the world in it's primal state, the starting point of all things.
"What would you offer me?" Asks the father of all things to his servant on bended knee.
The ragged warrior produces from his side a broken blade, the wrapping along the handle long worn away to reveal the metal beneath, it's blade cracked into a short but jagged edge. Throwing it before he whom he kneels to.
Brushing his long knotted raven black hair from his face, so that he might through eyes that reflect life in it's base form gaze upon the father more clearly. The warrior speaks his Oath.
For you, I would pledge a thousand blades, I would conquer your enemies as an army unto myself. So that your glory may be spread to the highest reaches of the heavens.
For you, I would lift myself above the station I have occupied, I would teach myself to speak with poems so that all might know your servants as a reflection of the beauties you have created.
For you my lord. I would take my own life, so that I might in death serve the purpose for which I am set to accomplish.
It is for you that my lungs draw breath. It is for your glory that my hand is brought upon the wicked. It is for you that I would set myself upon holy crusade. It is for you that I would learn to be greater than myself. It is for you that I would reach the highest potential that you would see fit to grace me with.
I love you.