Shaxx was a warlord. It was the Dark Age. Shaxx looked after his people, making sure they were safe and protected. He was well known throughout the land. His armor was rough and the cloth that clinged to his body ripped from previous battles he had overcome and won.

It was winter. Shaxx had been looking after his people and territory, making sure all was well. Temperatures were beyond freezing. Snow gracefully fell from the sky like feathers.

He noticed something or someone approaching in the distance. He took a few weapons with him before walking up to the figure. He stood tall as he looked down at the person before him-- you.

"Who are you." He proclaimed.