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A slash of my blade, a stab of my sword, my iron flies, their blood spills, my armor drenched, my steel, dyed red, my face covered in the anguish and death of those I fight. I lick my lips, the taste of blood ignites my fury, I lash out sword first, speed overwhelming my opisition, my mind outmarting them. the iron taste, it transforms the warrior within me into a beast, I may be trained to be killed, but when I taste blood, it sets out another side of me. But, after all my battles, the taste of blood, the iron, has left a stain on my tongue, and a stain on my soul.