[ WP ] You discover a grand hall filled with legendary weapons like Mjonir and Excalibur . Each generation or so , warriors come to the hall to inherit a weapon that they are worthy enough to wield . Across the hall you see a forgotten weapon that 's been collecting dust . You hear it call to you .

A searing pain manifested in the back of Renards skull, jarring him awake. He found himself lying in a dusty forgotten hall of stone. `` How did I get here?'' He asked himself. But no memeories were forthcoming. 
 
 `` Greetings child.'' The voice sent a chill down his spine and somehow relieved the ache in his head. 
 
 `` Whos there!?'' He asked loudly into the dimness. 
 
 `` Come find me and all shall be clear.'' 
 
 Renard stood, and against his better will began following what seemed to be the source of the voice. As he walked, his eyes fell upon many ancient and seemingly holy weapons. Each he passed more obscure than the last, until he could no longer name them. `` Closer my child, I am almost in reach.'' 
 
 Far and away from the other weapons was a black horn. Simple and eerie. Without any confirmation he knew what must be done. He brought it to his lips and blew, one solid blast. Its mournful baritone echoed and somehow agitated the other weapons. Renard collapsed to the ground shrieking as he felt his body covered in invisible flames. His clothes burned away but no matter how much pain he felt the flames did not damage his body. 
 
 Hours, days, weeks, time had fallen to the wayside in the wake of this endless torment. Until suddenly it stopped. He rose, naked in the hall of legend, a new existence brought forth in pain. His name forgotten only the horn remained. `` The age of man has reached its pinnacle.'' The horn whispered. `` Go forth and bring cleansing. My King of Salt.'' 
 
 Clothing appeared from nonexistence to cover his form. With a mere flick of his wrist the wall broke and he found himself in London. `` First comes destruction, I create nothingness.'' stunned Londoners stared at him. Woth a broad wave of his hand they disintegrated into piles of salt. He rose to the sky on blackened wings. Below he saw several others storm out of the hall, holding the feeble weapons built in a bygone era to destroy him. 
 
 His voice boomed over the city like the crashing of thunder. `` Hail the arisen king for the end of days is not as god prophesized. And cower for the land will be cleansed of the human disease.''
