[ WP ] You wake up to find yourself in a room with 5 doors . They are labeled 'peace ' , 'honor ' , 'truth ' , 'power ' and 'fortune ' . Which door do you choose to open and what happens ?

Honour! Most certainly honour, upon my life as a Norseman I swear, it is the one virtue I will never lose. 
 
 And so I do, I sheath my broadsword, it sways carelessly upon my belt. The familiar weight of iron and leather do little to alleviate my trepidation. I carefully step to my chosen door, reading the inscription one more time `` honour''. 
 I heave it open, it does not give easily and slowly inches open under my full force. I stand now at the mouth of a vast empty cavern, the floor is a pallid grey as if foreshadowing what is to come. The ceiling is high above, barely visible in the faint light from the torches upon the walls. A chill runs down my spine, even in my leather and maile armour, I can feel the permeating cold. At the very end stands a figure, a silhouette in a grey cloak, almost melding with the stone wall behind it. 
 I approach it carefully, one hand resting gingerly on my sword' hilt, I am ready for anything. The figure looks up, I can faintly make out the face of an old man, a scraggly beard covering most of it. He beckons me forward with a long spindly arm and speaks so, `` honour, chosen one, honour chosen''. I stop and he speaks again, `` thy honour shall be tested, step into the light and see it bested.'' his final words fill the cavern and a beam of light shines out of the dark ceiling. 
 I do as I am told, if this is a test, then best it I shall. Slightly trembling, I unsheath my sword and wait. A minute passes, nothing. Just the piercing gaze of the old man and the faint glow of the light. Another minute and my patience is waning but lo and behold! The light flashes, blinding me and before me appears an open field. 
 
 The old man is gone and he is replaced by an armoured warrior. Clad in fine maile and carrying a broadsword, much like mine. He stands in a battle stance, legs apart and sword drawn. Before him, kneeling, is the most beautiful maiden I have ever set eyes upon. Her hair is golden like the southern shores and her eyes are blue like the Northern skies. 
 
 Before I can move, a voice fills my head, `` what you see before you, young warrior, is the first daughter of your enemy's king. She is prisoner to your brother in arms and she is his for the taking.'' my heart beats quicken. `` but should you choose to slay your brother and set her free, she will be yours forever and you will be welcomed a hero in her kingdom'' 
 
 My mind is racing, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and she can be mine, I need only slay one warrior and this test will be over. 
 
 But is there any honour in what I am to do? are not women of conquered lands the fruits of our labour? Have not my forefathers pillaged, raped and ravaged? All in the name of oden. 
 
 I step towards the two figures, the warrior and the maiden, both look at me. The maiden's eyes plead for help, plead for freedom. Suddenly, I recognise the warrior. He is my brother, we have sailed together on many raids and fought side by side. Surely there is honour in standing by him? Surely, I can not abandon my blood brother! 
 
 But the piercing gaze of the maiden can not be averted, she is so beautiful and she can be mine. He chose his destiny when he decided to take her prisoner, did he not? 
 
 I set these thoughts aside, I steel myself, I must free the maiden. For there is honour in it, she is innocent and must be freed. 
 
 I draw my sword and charge my brother. He is ready for the first strike and deflects it to his left. I am fully committed now and I am unstoppable. I regain my footing and glance his blow sideways. He loses his balance for an instance and I catch him in the side with the broadsword. Blood gushes from his wound but he stands still, his eyes filled with rage. I take a few steps back, the fight is almost over now, the loss of blood will soon be followed by loss of consciousness. He charges me recklessly and I side step him with ease. The exhaustion is slowly getting to him, I can see his stance falter and his will waiver. He musters what is left of his dwindling strength and lunges me, he is slow and I am fast. He is dead and I, alive. 
 I let go of my sword, impaled through my brother's heart. His limp body falls to the ground. The maiden is looking at me with hope in her eyes. With trembling hands I reach out to her. The thought of what I have just done weighs heavy on my mind but she is so beautiful. She must be saved! 
 
 As I am about to take her arms in mine, she vanishes into a wisp of smoke and I am once again stood before the old man. Only this time, a wicked grin paints his face. His mouth opens and a high pitched laugh fills my ears. I clutch at them and drop to the ground, it is deafening. The old man morphs and a lean tall figure takes his place. Stood before me now is Loki, the deceiver and suddenly the fault of my actions dawn on me. Loki grabs me by my hair and with the same wicked grin says, `` I shall await you in the depths of the undedworld'' with that, he vanishes and so does the cavern. 
 
 I am now knelt in a battlefield, the lifeless body of my brother lays on the ground before me. His blood stains my sword and armour. The din of fighting is almost palpable. In the cacophony of noises, I hear a familiar voice, it is my father's or rather, our father's. He is rushing towards me, his hands outstretched, powerless to unweave the strands of fate. Powerless to undo what I have done. I am too afraid to face him but I must face the consequences of what I did, I must face it with the strength of a warrior. 
 
 I muster my courage and stand up again, I pick up my sword. My father stops short of me, I can see his features twist into a rage. My brother was always the favoured son. 
 
 `` come father, if I am to die, I shall do so with the sword in my hand and the maile on my back'' 
 
 Honour!
