You walked through your territory; looking after your people. Winter was coming. People were harvesting crops, securing all sorts of supplies, etc. They exited and entered cabins, sat around campfires; they thrived happily under your leadership. You watched over them, they were your responsibility after all.

The temperatures dropped drastically. This was the coldest it's been. You thought to yourself, paced across the land until you felt a hand touch your shoulder. It was one of your people.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you but.. we are running low on firewood and its too cold for us to leave the land.. what shall we do?" The civilian asked. You can see a worried expression on their face.

"...I'll go. Stay by the fires. I won't be long." You responded, and without another word, you took your axe and a sack, then took your leave.

The temperature was beyond freezing, though it was nothing you couldn't handle. You traveled to the nearby woods, unsheathing your axe and getting to work. You were driven by determination.

After an hour, you had gotten enough wood. You placed each log in the sturdy sack, holsted your axe, and tossed the sack over your back. You walked at a slower pace due to the sudden increase in weight because of the logs.

You were about 10 minutes away from your territory before suddenly pausing. Something in the distance caught your eye; as you approached the figure, you soon realized it was a man.. no... another warlord. He seemed badly wounded; he was on the floor. You stood before him, glaring down at him. His gaze finally met yours, that was when it snapped, this was Warlord Shaxx. One of the few warlords who did not seek destruction, but cared.

You looked down at him, even under the helmet, you can see he was defenseless. He knew he was at your mercy.. and he knew it. He did nothing but glare back at you.